


Fallout

by Alaina_Locksley



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Fix-It of Sorts, Mentor Natasha Romanov, Peter Parker's superhero career is looking up, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Protective Clint Barton, Sweet Vision (Marvel), Thaddeus Ross Sucks, The Raft Prison (Marvel), Tony Stark Has A Heart, Wanda Maximoff Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:01:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 29,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26828533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alaina_Locksley/pseuds/Alaina_Locksley
Summary: Team Cap escaped The Raft and bunkered down in a safehouse to lick their wounds.  Wanda misses Vision, Clint misses his family, and Tony's fist has a budding romance with Secretary Ross's face.  Follow the Avengers as they deal with the aftermath of the Accords and learn to adjust to their new lives (feat. Sam, Scott, Nat, Cap, Peter Parker, and a few others).
Relationships: Clint Barton & Wanda Maximoff, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Wanda Maximoff & Avengers Team, Wanda Maximoff/Vision
Comments: 42
Kudos: 128





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: In anticipation of WandaVision, I had a Wanda/Vision movie marathon (which is basically the Avengers movies minus the first one) and didn’t want it to end… This was the result. One thing to note for this particular fic. I did some research and couldn’t find an exact age so based on some vague comments in Civil War and where she is maturity-wise in Infinity War, I’m putting Wanda at 18ish. Thank you everyone for reading! May your Marvel endeavors stay banter-y and Black Widow’s movie drop soon.

**Chapter 1**

**Wanda**

_Pain_

It rippled through her like a wave. They wanted answers. She didn’t have them… or maybe she did? She couldn’t remember. All she knew was she shouldn’t give them what they wanted. Bad things happened when she did. Friends were hurt. People died. No, they wouldn’t get what they wanted from her.

Darkness edged in. It was becoming more frequent recently, and she couldn’t say she was disappointed. It squeezed around her. She let it until it hugged her into oblivion.

_Pain_

It was back, a phantom ebbing and flowing with the tide. It clawed at her, scratched at her, burned under her skin until she wanted to rip it out, out, _out…_ but she couldn’t.

Her arms wouldn’t move. They pulled uselessly at the fabric strapping them across her chest. Her diaphragm screamed in discomfort as she fought for breath. A choked sob ripped from her throat. She forced her eyes open but her vision danced, swirling in a kaleidoscope, twisting her stomach, until she squeezed them shut again. Vision. Cool arms and innocent eyes, she wanted Vision.

“Wanda,” someone shouted. It was familiar and comforting, familial… Pietro? “Wanda, kid, I need you to listen to me. Focus on my voice.” No… _Clint_. The name drifted from somewhere distant. Somewhere open and bright and safe and _home._ “I need you to breathe, Wanda. Breathe.”

He sounded worried. She hated when he was worried, especially over her. She didn’t deserve it. Stark knew. It’s why she was there, why he tried to lock her in the compound before. He was right. The guards were right. She was dangerous… a monster. For once in her life, she wished Clint would be more like Tony.

“Wanda,” another voice joined Clint’s… Sam. Calm, soft, steady Sam. “Wanda, you’re safe. You’re back with us. Focus on our voices, and steady your breathing. You can do it Wanda. Stay with us.”

Why were they trying so hard?

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Nothing but the pain as it flowed again. A sharp sizzle, then a jolt. Her body seized. Maybe she would see Pietro again.

A strangled cry filled her cell. It took her a second to recognize it was hers.

“Damn it, could you stop that?” Scott yelled. He sounded desperate. “She’s not doing anything.”

She wanted to reach out and comfort him, because it was all right. She was all right. Darkness was crowding her vision and at the end, there was a blue glow, blond hair, and devil may care smile waiting for her. Pietro. Family.

The voices around her were persistent, goading, nagging, gnats in her ears, begging her to steady her breathing, to focus. Voices that cared. It mattered because they cared. What would they do if she gave up? Would they follow? Laura, Cooper, Lila, Nate, they deserved Clint back. Scott needed to get home to his daughter. Steve would be lost without Sam. It mattered because she cared.

Wanda sucked in a breath and held it like Sam taught her. He’d found her curled in the corner of the compound one night after a nightmare and spent the rest of it teaching her how to calm herself. She pushed the breath out, counted to four, and repeated. It took her four tries before she could set a consistent rhythm.

“Good,” Sam said, keeping his voice low and comforting. She let it wash over her. “Good, Wanda. Keep going. You can do this.”

Another sizzle interrupted her next breath. Her throat clenched in anticipation. A small whine escaped before-

_Pain_

_Darkness_

_Oblivion_

~*~*~

Everything hurt.

It was the first conscious thought she had before a siren blared. Arms were grabbing her, pulling her, lifting her. Not again. The guards usually gave her a day to rest before returning. She couldn’t stand the interrogation room again, not this soon. Wanda forced her eyes open.

Red filled them. She shrank back and waited for the sizzle. It never came. The light was from the emergency klaxons, not her. _Breathe_. Sam’s voice echoed in her head. She sucked in a breath.

The arms cradled her against a hard chest. Her sore muscles screamed as a whimper tried to push past her lips. Blue filled her vision.

“Pietro?”

“Not quite,” a familiar voice muttered into her hair. He pulled her closer.

Not a blue glow. Blue fabric… Steve.

“Steve,” she breathed out. He came. He came for them. Clint was right.

“Hold on, Wanda. We’ll get you out of here, just hold on.”

She tried to. Oh, how she tried, but the darkness beckoned, and like so many other times in her life, she followed.

**Clint**

“What. Happened?” Nat ground out beside him.

They were in the quinjet. She’d just set the plane on autopilot to Wakanda, – because apparently they were friends now? – and joined them in the back. Clint watched her as she stared down at Wanda as tremors rocked the girl’s body.

“They had questions.”

Her glare flicked to him. He gave her the look. The _ye_ _s, those types of questions_ look. Her only reaction was a slight tick at her jaw. Clint was positive he was the only one on earth who would notice it.

“Why is that… thing… still around her neck?” she demanded.

“I’m trying,” Scott said. Sweat gathered across his brow as he examined the latch for the shock collar. “It’s just...”

“Just what?”

Scott didn’t flinch… barely. Clint would have smirked if it weren’t the kid in trouble. Why was it always her? He would give anything to tuck her away at the farm with Laura, safe and sound. Clint sighed. He’d never do that. He wasn’t _Stark_. The name spit through his mind like a curse.

“The tech is… It’s genius. It’s beyond me, and I don’t know how to take it off without setting off the safety precautions.”

“Safety precautions?” Sam asked from the corner. He stood watching them, arms crossed, chewing on a knuckle.

“There are charges set to detonate if it’s tampered with.”

“Explosives,” Steve muttered. “Of course. Great, Tony, just great.” He turned as another shudder ran through Wanda’s body ripping the collar out of Scott’s hands. “How long until we reach Wakanda?”

“An hour,” Nat answered.

“Scott, keep trying. Nat-”

“I’ll cut the time.”

She disappeared into the cockpit. With one last look at Wanda, Clint turned and followed.

Nat didn’t look up from the controls when he entered or when he sat in the co-pilot’s seat.

“Did they have _questions_ for you, too?” she asked flipping a few switches.

Clint’s hand ghosted over his bruised ribs. “They had some for all of us, but we’re not enhanced.”

Nat’s gaze cut to him before sliding back to the control panel. If the next switch she flicked was overly aggressive, he didn’t comment.

“Watchdogs?”

He scoffed. “Who else?”

“Ross?”

He raised an eyebrow. She didn’t need him to confirm it to know the answer. He could almost see her add another name to her ledger.

~*~*~

“Don’t touch that.”

Clint snapped his hand back from the device and sent a sheepish look toward the princess. Shuri stood by a hologram of the collar still wrapped around Wanda’s neck. An hour after landing in Wakanda and they still weren’t any closer to getting it off. Clint was past antsy.

When they arrived she’d taken one look at the contraption and asked him to accompany her to the lab. To answer questions, she’d said. An hour and some change later, and he’d only been asked two.

Was he there when it was put on?

No.

Did they put one on any of the others?

No… his answer may have been a little longer with more expletives. The princess wasn’t impressed.

“Don’t touch that either.”

Clint snapped his hand back again. He snuck a glance. She hadn’t looked away from the display. How was she doing that?

He tucked his hands under his arms and watched her work. The hologram glowed as she touched it lighting seven spots around the circumference in red. She selected the clasp and entered a command. Circuits burst into life following a path through the red spots. The hologram shuddered, then burst into fragments.

Clint turned back to studying the lab. Another failed simulation. Another way they could remove the collar and lose Wanda in the process.

A black fabric caught his eye. It looked out of place among the vibranium gadgets, and his hand twitched to examine it. He glanced back at the princess. She was almost done resetting the hologram. Clint reached out and tapped it. The fabric rippled purple at his touch.

His brow furrowed. He glanced back at the princess. The hologram was up with seven red spots. She was messing with the latch.

Clint turned back to the fabric. He shouldn’t… he reached out to touch it.

BAM!

A force pushed out in a purple pulse and slammed against his hand. He started shaking it to get some feeling back.

“That’s why I told you not to touch anything,” the princess said. He spun to see her smirking smugly at the hologram. The latch was open and the word success was floating below it in green. “Maybe next time you’ll listen.”

Scolded by a kid… this was a new low. He distinctly remembered using the same tactic on Cooper when he was younger… and Lila… He really hoped Nate wouldn’t take after him and listen the first time instead.

Shuri turned to face him, the green light from the word success reflecting off her face.

“Now, are you ready to get this abomination off of your friend?”

“Lead the way, princess.”

Clint followed Shuri to the infirmary room they’d given Wanda. He clocked Nat half-hidden in shadows standing guard in the corner before his attention was stolen by the girl in the bed. He’d never seen her look so small. A bandage circled her head blood soaking through at her temple. Bruises trailed down her arms and neck disappearing under a hospital gown and blanket. Her wrists were splinted and her knuckles and nails were packed with gauze. Clint wondered how much she’d fought against the straight jacket before her skin broke open. Did it happen the first day? The second? Were her knuckles bloody and nails cracked when Stark came to visit?

“You’re her guardian, yes?” Shuri asked shaking him out of his thoughts. She stood at the side of the bed reading the vitals floating next to Wanda’s head.

“Yes, we signed the papers after Sokovia.”

She nodded and pulled out a tablet. “I need you to sign at the bottom to give me permission to attempt the successful simulation.” She held it out to him.

“What are the risks?” Nat asked from the corner. Shuri jumped, eyes widening a fraction before she caught herself. Clint was impressed. The kid had promise.

Another kid. His gaze slid back to Wanda, the distraught, punk teen with promise he brought home from a war-torn country. The girl who played with his kids and learned how to help around the farm before she moved to the compound. She should be in school. She should be playing with Cooper and Lila and singing those adorable Sokovian lullabies she loved to Nate. Instead, she was in a hospital bed... because she had promise.

He was getting too old for this.

“The collar _could_ explode... but I’m confident in my results,” Shuri rushed to add.

“Explode,” Nat repeated moving closer to the bed, eyes never leaving Wanda. She paused before sliding her gaze to Shuri. “I’ll unlatch it. You walk me through how to do it.”

“Walk you though...” the princess actually laughed. “You’re serious? No, it’s too complicated. I’ll remove the device.”

Nat raised an eyebrow and adopted a look that made Clint take a step back. He suddenly didn’t want any space between his back and a wall.

“Does your brother know what you’re about to do?”

Nat cut her gaze over to him.

_Oh, shit._

Clint shook his head just enough for her to catch. Her stare went back to the princess, and he slumped in relief.

“My brother is not my keeper.” Shuri rolled her eyes. “I found a way to open the latch, and that is what I’m going to do.”

“I’ll take that as a no. I’ll go collect him. Clint do _not_ sign that form until I get back.”

His back snapped straight again. Nat glowered at him as she stalked out the door. Shuri glared at him from the side of the bed.

_Crap._

“We need to disable the collar,” Shuri said motioning toward the tablet in his hand. “Captain Rogers collected one of the remotes, but there could be more. It needs to be removed before they find one and activate the destruct sequence.”

“They can do that?” Clint’s brow furrowed.

“If they have a remote, yes.” Shuri’s stare burrowed into him.

What would Laura say? She was always better with the kids. She always knew what to do. He would give anything to have her there with him. Then he remembered he was in a room with a bomb and rethought it.

There had to be a better way than having a kid deactivate an explosive.

“If they haven’t found a remote yet, chances are they won’t find one before your brother gets here. We should wait.”

God, he hoped he was right.

Shuri shot him an unimpressed look and spun back to face the bed. She leaned in to study the collar careful not to touch it.

Something hissed or… sizzled near Wanda’s head. Clint reacted on instinct. He jumped forward and pulled Shuri back shielding her. Wanda’s body jerked when the shock came, thankfully still under the sedatives they gave her for the tremors when they arrived.

“You were saying?” Shuri asked pulling out of his arms and moving to Wanda’s side. “We need to deactivate it, now. I don’t know why they didn’t go straight to the destruct sequence, but I doubt they will delay for long.”

“Pain.”

“What?”

Clint stared at Wanda and Shuri, two kids in an impossible situation. Their fates were in his hands. He had the sudden need to tuck them _both_ away at the farm with Laura.

“They wanted her in pain before they killed her.” He signed the tablet. She was right. They had to deactivate it or leave the room and abandon Wanda. There wasn’t a choice. Shuri blanched doing her best to hide the reaction. “Deactivate it.”

Shuri reached for the latch and popped open a small panel. She snapped a wire, then another. The third wire was about to snap free when something sizzled. Clint reached to pull her back again, but her reflexes beat him. She jumped away before the shock could hit her, too. They both watched as Wanda’s body seized again.

The princess spat something in Wakandan before returning to her work. Clint wondered if she would teach it to him later. He needed to add to his Wakandan cursing.

Now, he wanted a kid to teach him how to cuss… too old, he was getting too old.

Shuri pulled the third wire free and reconnected them in a different order. She checked it once… twice. It seemed too simple for the number of simulations she ran.

“Are you sure that’s right?” Clint asked.

“Yes, of course,” she said. He couldn’t say he was convinced. Her voice hinted that she wasn’t either.

Something ticked. His heart caught in the throat. It wasn’t a sizzle. No sizzle meant something new and something new meant… destruct sequence.

“Do it.”

“Way ahead of you,” she answered, confident but nervous.

_Tick… …_

Clint put a hand on her shoulder.

_Tick…_

He prepared to pull her away from the blast.

_Tick-_

_Click_

The collar snapped open. Clint grabbed it and flung it behind him moving to shield the two kids in case it decided to go off anyway. He heard it slide across the floor then stop.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

No blast. Clint let out a breath. He straightened.

“Well...” T’Challa’s voice drifted into the room. Clint spun to see the collar sitting at his feet, the Stark logo stamped across the inside. “I see you’ve been busy, sister.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Wanda**

_A metal circle clunked against the interrogation room’s table._

“ _Put it on,” the guard told her._

_Wanda eyed the device, a knot of dread building in her stomach._

“ _What is it?”_

_A smile slid across the man’s face and the knot clenched._

“ _Does it matter?”_

_Wanda glanced at the door. The threat was obvious. It was the same one they’d used to contain her since the airfield. Behave or your friends will pay. A spark of red in her eyes was enough for a slap across the face and punch in one of their guts. She’d fought to control her panic after her first slip._

_Sam helped. Sweet, patient Sam was somewhere out there in a cell... and Scott. She didn’t know him well but still._

_What would happen if she refused? The metal glinted up at her. It was simple, elegant, unassuming, and she had a sinking feeling she knew exactly what it was._

_Clint. They would start with Clint. He wouldn’t allow anything less. He tried to goad them when they came for her. He would do the same if they came for the others, and this time they would listen._

_Clint, who held her after her brother’s death. Clint, who brought her home when she had nowhere else to go. Clint, who gave her a team._

_A spike of pain throbbed through her ribs where the nightstick had struck every time she refused to answer a question about Steve. Her scalp burned where the guards had continuously yanked her hair. She couldn’t let them take Clint._

_The guard was right. It didn’t matter._

_She reached for the collar._

“ _Good girl.”_

_Wanda cringed. The last person to tell her that was a Hydra scientist. Nothing good ever followed._

_She brought it closer to her throat. Her eye caught a logo stamped along the inside and she paused. Stark. Her heart stuttered and threatened to split._

_He wouldn’t._

“ _Something wrong?” The guard asked eyes gleaming as he watched her stare at the logo._

_She cut a glare up at him, forcing her emotion behind a mask the way Natasha taught her. She could do this. She was an Avenger._

_For Clint._

_Wanda lifted the collar to her neck and latched it closed. The guard’s smile grew._

“ _Good… Now try to take it off.”_

_Wanda paused. She fought to keep her face blank. He was toying with her, and it cut deeper than she expected._

_Lifting a hand, she reached for the latch like she was told._

“ _No,” he interrupted. She stopped, flicking her eyes to his in confusion. His face twisted in disgust. “You’re a witch aren’t you?”_

_Her blood ran cold. She could still feel the sting on her cheek from the last time her powers flickered. It was a trap. The guard raised a brow._

_Wanda took a breath and let energy gather in her hands. A hint of psionic energy misted the air red. She didn’t hesitate, not knowing how long they would let her continue, and flicked a tendril toward the latch._

_Sizzle._

_Jolt._

_She was on fire. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t think._

_Something cold pressed against her cheek. A table. The interrogation room. Right. A hand wrapped in her hair and pulled her back to sit up in the chair. Her muscles shook and spasmed. Her heart pounded as she tried to breathe through the panic like Sam taught her._

_The guard smirked down at her, his hand tightening. She flinched as her scalp seared._

“ _A parting gift from your friend, Stark,” he said._

_No… no, Tony wouldn’t. She forced herself to breathe in._

“ _Apparently, he wasn’t too fond of someone poking around in his head, so he made a device sensitive to psionic energy.”_

_No, Tony forgave her. He said he forgave her. Tears welled in her eyes. The guard chuckled. Her breathing hitched._

“ _I don’t suggest trying to remove it manually either, not that you’ll be able to. It has a bit of a nasty surprise. Seems Iron Man has a vindictive streak.”_

_Wanda closed her eyes wanting to hide from the malicious gleam on the guard’s face. A tear tracked down her cheek. The Stark logo flashed through her mind stamped proudly against the steel around her neck, the same logo stamped on the missile lying dormant in their apartment as Pietro did everything he could to call for help from their place under the rubble. Her heart cracked. A sob built in her throat._

_He would. Tony thought she was dangerous, so dangerous he tried to lock her on the compound to keep people safe. He’d posted Vision as her guard because he thought she wouldn’t hurt him, and she blasted him through the floor. Why wouldn’t he build something to contain her? She’d played with his head, with all of their heads. She deserved a short leash._

“ _Nice guy, Stark,” the guard’s voice cut into her thoughts. “He left us a present, too.”_

_Know your surroundings. Natasha’s voice echoed through her head. She didn’t want to know what he meant. She needed to know what he meant._

_Wanda cracked her eyes open trying to ignore the hand still wrapped in her hair. The guard held a controller in front of her face, thumb hovering over a single button. Despite her best efforts, she felt her eyes widen in fear. Nat would have made her run a lap._

“ _It’s nice to finally see a hero who understands how to deal with your kind. I’ll remember to thank him for the both of us next time he visits.”_

_He pressed the button._

_Sizzle._

_Jolt._

_Pain._

_When she opened her eyes she was in a cell. She didn’t remember them dragging her back, but it didn’t matter. People were yelling. Clint was yelling. No, goading._

“… _think you’re big and strong beating on a kid. Come on, me and you in a room, let’s see who comes out in one piece.”_

“ _No,” Wanda groaned too low for anyone to hear._

“ _Careful, birdbrain. I might take you up on the offer.”_

_Wanda forced herself not to flinch at the voice. Biting her lip, she fought her aching muscles to sit up. Something was wrong. Her arms refused to move._

_She looked down, the collar biting into her neck. A straight jacket... really?_

“ _I bet you’ve never had a real fight in your life. Yeah, you’re the type to jump in at the end and say you won, right?” Clint distracted her from examining it further._

“ _That’s it,” the guard growled. “Throw flyboy back in the cell. We’ll question Barton first.”_

“ _No,” she said, her voice hoarse. She stood and scrambled to the cell door. “No, leave him alone.”_

_Three guards, Clint, Sam, and Scott, everyone turned to look at her. She fought not to shrink back._

“ _Well… look who’s decided to join us.” The guard walked closer, sliding something from his pocket. “And here I thought you were out for the night.”_

_Wanda fought the urge to swallow. Don’t show weakness, Natasha’s voice echoed in her head._

“ _You said you wouldn’t hurt them,” she said, refusing to stare as his thumb circled the controller._

“ _What is that?” Clint yelled from his cell. “Hey, what are you doing?”_

“ _Dear, god,” Scott hissed from his cell, eyes tracking between the controller and the collar._

_The guard ignored them._

“ _I lied.”_

“ _But-”_

“ _I don’t make deals with your kind, witch,” he spat. “We have questions that need answers. You’re contained. Whatever I said to make that happen… It doesn’t matter.”_

_The man grinned down at her, reveling in his success. She suddenly understood why Clint couldn’t always keep from punching people._

“ _Take him to the interrogation room,” the guard ordered._

“ _No.” She moved to punch the glass door forgetting about the sleeves restraining her arms. The fabric scraped at her knuckles as she stumbled off balance._

“ _That seemed aggressive,” the guard mocked. “Aggression will not be tolerated.”_

_She sucked in a breath, knowing what was coming. Wanda heard the others shout a protest before…_

_Sizzle._

_Jolt._

_She felt a scream rip from her throat._

“ _Wanda,” Clint yelled as they dragged him away._

_Sizzle._

_Jolt._

_Another scream._

“ _Wanda,” Clint’s voice echoed closer._

_Wait, closer? She felt tears coat her cheeks._

“ _Wanda,” his voice was next to her, calm, reassuring. “Wanda, you’re ok. You’re safe.”_

_He stroked her hair like Laura did the first year after Ultron, like Laura did when she had a nightmare about Pietro or Hydra, or whatever horror decided to terrorize her that night._

Wanda sucked in a breath, eyes snapping open. She shrunk away from the hand in her hair on instinct.

“Wanda, it’s ok,” Clint said raising his hands so she could see them. “You’re ok. Just calm down.”

“Clint?” She blinked. Red mist filled the air around her, power building through her core into her hands. She flinched waiting for the sizzle, for the jolt. It never came.

Her hand jumped to her neck, searching for the collar. Nothing. Her breath hitched. A relieved sob caught in her throat. She closed her eyes trying to contain her emotion. Slowly, she reeled her power back in. She was safe. She was with Clint. Take in the present, Sam echoed in the back of her mind. Know where you are and stay there.

“Hey, kid.”

Wanda opened her eyes. She forced a smile to curl her lips as she examined the infirmary room.

“It looks like I missed some things.”

Clint choked out a laugh. If it was more watery than normal, she didn’t comment.

“Oh, you know, a daring rescue, enemies becoming friends. It’s all becoming routine at this point.”

She made sure her eyes smiled with her mouth. It’s in the eyes, Natasha always said. The eyes will give you away in a heartbeat if you don’t focus.

“Where are we?” She asked, studying the strange devices by her bed. They were far more advanced than she’d ever seen, and she’d lived in a compound built by Tony Stark. A pang stabbed through her heart.

“Wakanda.”

Her eyes snapped to Clint’s.

“Wakanda.” The country whose citizens she’d killed in Lagos, that Wakanda? She kept her face blank.

He nodded. “Rogers made a deal with the king. They agreed to provide medical assistance.”

She looked down under the guise of studying her bandages. It took some effort, but she eventually shoved her guilt into a box and locked it away. She could examine it later.

“That was generous of them.” Her wrists had splints. Gauze covered her hands. She knew her arms were bruised, but seeing them without sleeves was a shock. Her muscles felt stiff, and her ribs ached. She wondered how many were cracked.

“That’s one word for it.” She looked back up at him. “They’re kicking us out.”

“Ah… can you blame them?” She held Clint’s gaze. It unnerved him. He was expecting her to protest, but she was once an activist from a war-torn country. Misled or not, she understood politics. She was surprised the Wakandan king let her anywhere near his kingdom.

“Yes, well.” Clint cleared his throat. “I should go get a nurse. They can at least give you a clean bill of health before showing us the door.” He started for the door before turning back, hesitating.

“I’ll be fine.” She shot him another smile, focusing to include her eyes. “Go on.”

His shoulders relaxed. “I’ll be right back,” Clint said before turning and continuing out the door.

Wanda let out a breath. She let her eyes flutter closed.

“Your mask is getting better.”

Wanda didn’t react, refusing to let her surprise show.

“Much better,” Natasha added, slinking out of the shadows and moving to the side of her bed.

“I’ve had a lot of practice,” Wanda said meeting her blank stare. She noticed Natasha’s jaw tick. _That’s new._

“I’m happy you’re ok,” Natasha said, shifting awkwardly.

“ _I’m happy you saw sense_ ,” Wanda answered in Sokovian, savoring the ability to avoid translating even for a moment.

“ _Brat,”_ Natasha quipped, relaxing as they shifted back into a more familiar dynamic.

“ _Are you staying with us?”_

Natasha scoffed. _“Don’t think you’re getting out of training that easily. Besides, no one can get into my safe houses without me.”_

Wanda picked at the gauze on her hand. She should ask… Natasha would see straight through it… Maybe she could be non-nonchalant… She could totally be non-nonchalant.

“ _So… did anyone else see sense?_ ”

Natasha blinked. “ _Vision is still with Tony._ ”

Wanda cringed. Apparently, she needed more practice – her hand ghosted over her throat – preferably through lessons instead of life experience. She refused to think about Vision or what it meant that he was still on the compound.

 _Monster_.

Would they try to go for him next? The thought snuck in anyway.

_Dangerous._

No, they had others in their sights. She’d gleaned that much during the… interrogations. Stark’s compound was the safest place for Vision. Wanda tried not to clench her teeth. Vis wouldn’t be dumb enough to run away.

**Vision**

Vis stood in front of the stove in the compound’s kitchen. He didn’t need food, but he could smell, and he found cooking soothing. The soup kitchen down the road seemed appreciative of his efforts, though they did joke with him that they didn’t just serve soup. At least, he thought it was a joke. They laughed so he was pretty sure. A pang ran through the circuits in his chest. Wanda would know. She always helped him decipher interactions.

He added a pinch of paprika. It was paprika this time. He checked… five hundred and seventy two times, just to be sure. Vis inhaled. He was the only one that called himself that now, Vis. It made him feel like there was a part of her still with him, even if it was just in his memory banks.

The smell hit his sensors and he smiled. It was small, deprecating. It was closer to Wanda’s recipe but not quite. He would have to try again. By the time they talked Secretary Ross into freeing her, he would have it.

“What smells so good?” Mr. Stark asked. He walked into the kitchen and flung his blazer over a chair.

“Paprikash, sir.”

Mr. Stark paused, spoon halfway to the pot. Vision felt his stare as he turned for another spice.

“Still miss her, then?” He asked leaning back in his chair without stealing a bite.

“Of course.”

Vision stood back to let the pot simmer. Mr. Stark started tapping his spoon against the counter in a move that Vision identified as nervousness.

“Vision,” Mr. Stark said, his voice dropping .85 in decibel. Vis scanned his stress levels. They were 60% higher than normal.

“Did something happen, sir?”

Mr. Stark dropped his head, staring at the spoon frantically tapping the counter.

“Do you remember when I went to visit The Raft?” He asked without looking up. Vision studied the top of his head.

“And you said everyone was fine.”

“Yeah… yeah, well, I didn’t… I didn’t tell-”

“You lied.” Vis helped him finish matter-of-factly. He wondered if Mr. Stark forgot about the lie-detecting protocols he programmed into Jarvis.

Mr. Stark’s face turned red. “Yes.” He cleared his throat. “Yes, I guess I did.”

“I know,” Vis told him, picking up the parsley.

Mr. Stark’s head snapped up. “Vision –” Vis detected warning patterns in his tone – “you know you aren’t allowed to leave the compound, right? Ross is looking for any excuse to throw you in a lab.”

“I know, sir.” Vis spooned out a bowl of almost perfect Paprikash. “Soup?”

Mr. Stark blinked. “I – yes, thank you, Vision.”

Vis shot him the smile Wanda told him looked trustworthy. Mr. Stark took the bowl and moved toward his office. He paused halfway.

“Vision, you know I –“ he cleared his throat – “I care about you. You know that, right?”

“I know, sir.” He furrowed his brow the way he saw Mr. Wilson do when he was listening to someone with high stress levels.

Mr. Stark opened his mouth to say something else before closing it again. Instead, he shook his head and continued to his office. Vision poured the soup into a container and started for the door.

Mr. Stark said not to leave the compound, but Wanda said a little rebellion was good for the soul. He didn’t know if he had a soul. Still, he thought it would be good.

Either way, the soup kitchen could always use more soup.


	3. Chapter 3

**Clint**

Clint returned to Wanda’s room with a nurse, and after giving the kid the all clear and a few extra bandages, they were all asked to kindly leave the premises. At least, they let them keep the quinjet. Clint scoffed.

Eighteen hours into the flight to god knows where – Nat’s safe house better be worth it – and their small band of fugitives were ready to commit murder… or maybe it was just him… starting with Scott.

“… So Hope comes in all guns blazing and hot action starr-y moves, if you know what I mean, and out pops a pair of wings. The guy gave her wings. Can you believe it? I mean, I know he’s her dad, but come on. I was first. I was the original.”

“Mmhm,” Clint hummed. He wondered if Scott knew Hank Pym and Janet van Dyne were the real originals. On second thought, he didn’t care. “You know, this is all _real_ interesting. Why don’t you go explain it to Cap. I’m sure he’s in need of some inflight entertainment.”

Clint stood as quickly as he could and beelined for the cockpit. He paused long enough to throw Steve a salute before ducking into the front. If looks could kill… at least he wouldn’t be on the plane anymore.

“Up and out birdman,” Clint said, slapping Sam on the shoulder. Nat glanced over from the corner of her eye.

“The call sign’s Falcon, man.”

“Whatever, out of my seat.”

“Your seat? I called it before we boarded.”

“Yes, and all seat reservations expire after ten hours. You’re eight over. Up.”

“You’re making that up.”

“Yes, I am.”

“I’m not moving.”

“Fine.” Clint lounged against the doorframe. He tapped his foot once, twice, three times.

“Here we go,” Nat muttered under her breath.

“How about some music?” Clint asked. Nat groaned.

“What?” Sam asked, eyes widening in alarm.

“Music. You know, tunes.” Clint moved forward to the control panel. He reached for the stereo switch. Sam snatched his wrist.

“No. Absolutely not. No. I am not riding another five hours with that noise you call music… just no.”

“Seconded,” Steve called from the back.

“Thirded,” Scott parroted. Clint rolled his eyes.

“Wanda?” He called back just to get a response. He wasn’t worried about her. Really.

“Don’t look at me. I’m with Sam.” Clint let out a small breath only Nat would notice. Quipping was good. Quipping was interacting.

“Sounds like we have a whole planeload of people who will riot if you don’t give me my seat. How long do you think it’ll take for Rogers to pull you out?”

“Forget about Rogers. If you start playing that music, I’m grabbing a couple darts and knocking Sam out for the rest of the ride.” Nat turned to Sam. “You can have a cot in the back.”

“Actually, I’ll take one of those,” Clint said.

“Seconded,” Steve echoed.

“Thirded,” Scott added.

Clint groaned. “Again? Don’t tell me that word’s here to stay.”

“Probably,” Scott sang from the back.

“I was joking boys. I left the darts back at the compound.”

Disappointed groans filled the quinjet. Clint caught Wanda’s lips ghost into a smile, and it was worth it. He pushed his hand closer to the stereo switch. Sam pulled it back. Clint turned to him and lifted an eyebrow.

…

…

…

“Fine,” Sam grumbled. He stood up and headed into the back, dropping into the seat next to Wanda. Before Clint turned away, he saw him start up a conversation. He loved it when a plan came together.

Clint dropped into the co-pilot’s chair entirely too proud of himself.

“Smooth,” Nat said shooting him a smirk from the corner of her eye.

“Thank you.”

He reached for the stereo switch. Nat snatched his wrist.

“Remember when I promised not to tell Laura about that close call in Minsk?” She asked conversationally. Her grip tightened.

“Yeah?” He answered. His palms started to sweat. She wouldn’t.

She flicked her gaze from his hand to the switch and back. She would. Slowly, he withdrew and sat back in his seat. She nodded, and he relaxed.

His hand tapped on the armrest as he looked for something to do. He spotted an instruction manual. Smiling, he glanced back at Scott. He grabbed the manual and ripped a strip off the first page. He rolled into a ball and lined up his shot.

Clint wondered how many hits he could get before Scott figured out it was him.

~*~*~

It was worth it.

Clint stared at the safe house in awe. It was totally worth it.

Tahiti. Nat had a safe house in Tahiti. Of course, she did. He wondered if she’d let him bring Laura to it some time. The kids would love some Aunt Nat time.

The hut had one room, a kitchen, a personal beach, and a hidden elevator. After disabling and reenabling the traps along the path, Nat led them inside, then down ten levels. He was too tired to examine the area thoroughly. They found the bunks and after finding the bed as far as humanly possible from Scott, he called it and promptly fell asleep.

They all woke up, entirely too early, to a red-tinted room and objects hurling against the wall. Clint flipped out of his bed on instinct, fighting through the red mist to Wanda’s side. When she woke up, her face tinged red in embarrassment before fleeing behind the mask Nat taught her. She was getting way too good at that. It was eerie.

The red retreated. Things settled back into place. Scott let out a snore.

Steve looked over in surprise. “How did he sleep through that?”

Wanda let out a desperate laugh. Clint hugged her into his side.

“Maybe Hank added it to the suit,” Nat suggested. “Any time he gets annoyed he can just tell him to go take a nap.”

They stood in silence for a minute, no one knowing what to do.

“You like tea, right Wanda?” Sam asked before it could get awkward.

“ _Da_ , er, yes,” she answered, her accent thicker with lack of sleep and stress.

“Nat, this place got a kitchen?” He asked.

“Kitchen, right, yes, this way.”

They followed her out, leaving Scott to his superhuman sleep.

**Tony**

Tony Stark sat in the conference room stirring his tea. He glared at the mug wishing it was coffee. Pepper agreed to start seeing him again… with conditions.

One, no more Iron Man ventures unless agreed upon by both her and the UN council.

Fine. Done. Easy.

Two, they had to find time for at least two meals together a week.

Hard with their schedules, but doable. If he were being honest, he was looking forward to it. Not that he’d tell her.

Three, no coffee for a month…

That was just petty. What possible reason did she have for taking away his coffee? He tapped the spoon on the side of the mug adding more pressure than necessary for the benefit of the others in the room. It was enough to make Ross stumble over his next point.

“Mr. Stark, do you mind?”

“That your facility is inhumane and ineffective.” Tony tapped the spoon one more time before sliding it over the lip and setting it down. He brought the mug up and stared at the Secretary of State over the edge. “You bet.” He took a sip and cringed.

Sugar, it needed more sugar. He grabbed a pack from the person sitting to his right. The representative from Sweden? Norway? Eh, one of the countries that enjoyed freezing their asses off.

“Let me remind you, you’re here as a courtesy,” Ross blustered from in front of his fifty eight thousand useless point presentation.

“And let me remind you, enhanced interrogations are banned by the UN.”

Ross sputtered. Tony rolled his eyes and stirred the sugar into his tea.

The representatives from France and the UK looked up in surprise. A rumble spread through the room as others started muttering to each other. Ross’s face was turning an interesting shade of red. Tony took another sip of the tea. Ugh, he wondered if there was someone he could pay to skip a month.

“I can assure you there’s no proof of mistreatment in my facility.”

Gotcha.

Tony abandoned his mug for his phone and stole control of the monitors. He threw a video up on the screen.

“I assume you all recognize Sam Wilson, decorated soldier, leader of a veteran PTSD group, and straight-up badass flyer. Let’s see what happens next.”

Tony hit play ignoring Ross’s protests. No one else seemed to mind.

“Where is Steve Rogers?” The guard in the video asked.

Sam leaned back in his chair, eye swollen and lip split. “What you mean he’s not here? I thought you said you’d have him within an hour.”

It took Tony hours to find an answer from one of the guys that wouldn’t make them look like an ass. He refused to watch the videos from Wanda’s sessions...

He never should have designed that collar.

The guard stepped forward and cracked his nightstick against Sam’s ribs.

“Where is Steve Rogers?” The guard asked again.

The video paused. Tony studied the others at the table. The Wakandan representative didn’t look surprised… interesting.

“Where did you get this?” Ross glared daggers at Tony.

“Wiki Leaks… or maybe YouTube… Twitterbook? Who knows anymore. Maybe Snowden is diversifying.”

A smug look crossed the Russian representative’s face.

“My point, ladies and gentlemen, is if the UN Security Council is going to oversee the Avengers, it should oversee our punishment, as well.”

“Perhaps, we should visit the prisoners,” the Wakandan representative suggested, “and ensure their treatment is worthy of this Council.”

Ross spluttered and hedged, trying to kill the idea, but it spread farther and faster than wildfire. In the end, his efforts didn’t matter. The Security Council would find out the Avengers escaped in two days. Tony rewarded himself with another sip of tea. It was bitter.

On the way out, Ross grabbed his arm. Tony glared down at his hand until he let go, but it was too late. They were the last two in the room.

“It was your robot wasn’t it?” Ross growled.

“Robot? Robot… Nope, don’t have any robots, sorry.”

“The Vision. It was the overreaching AI wasn’t it?”

“I think the word you’re looking for is Android.”

“I prefer weapon.”

“Good for you. Are we done?”

“No.” Ross stepped into Tony’s personal space. What was it with head honcho army types always getting into his personal space? “Clearly, The Vision’s situation needs to be re-evaluated. Expect a visit soon.”

Tony shot him a saucy smirk, the one that never failed to score an after-benefit meeting with whichever leggy, blond he had his eye on that night… Whichever leggy, blond he had his eye on B.P., he corrected himself, Before Pepper.

“Should I have dinner ready? Maybe a movie?” Tony leaned in closer and winked. The Secretary stumbled a step back. He pulled his jacket straight and cleared his throat.

“Just see that he’s there, Stark. If nothing else, we want to see if he can track the witch.”

“You mean Wanda?” Tony asked, leaning back against the table and crossing his arms. “Why would you need to track her? Isn’t she in one of your cells?”

Ross sniffed and turned to leave. He paused at the door.

“You know,” he said, shooting a considering look over his shoulder, “I really should thank you for your containment design.” His smile turned to ice. “Its effectiveness was… shocking.”

Tony’s fist clenched. He would _not_ punch the Secretary of State. Pepper would probably add it as a condition, and he wanted the freedom to do it later if needed. Tony took in the smug look on Ross’s face. Yeah… he would definitely need it later.

“See you soon, Stark.”

**Clint**

“You made the news,” Nat said, throwing a newspaper down in front of him. Clint grabbed it, scanning the article as he sipped his coffee. He didn’t know how Wanda and Sam could live on tea alone.

“They got my bad side,” he said, tossing the paper back down. His mugshot stared up from the page next to Sam, Scott, Wanda, and Steve.

“Guess the UN finally knows you’re gone.” Clint hummed into his cup. “They say you’re dangerous,” she teased.

“True.”

“Deranged.”

“Sometimes.”

“Think Laura will hang it on the fridge?”

“Probably.” He took another sip of coffee, ignoring how much he missed his wife. “At least the kids won’t forget what I look like.”

Nat poured herself a coffee and started making a tea. Clint raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

He shot a look at the second mug.

“It’s for Sam.” She rolled her eyes.

His second eyebrow rose to join the other. “You’re making Sam tea?”

She stirred in milk and three sugars. Dear God, the man had a sweet tooth. Nat shifted, uneasy.

“I may have re-cracked his rib when we were sparring.”

“Ah.” Suddenly, the world made sense again.

She turned and leaned back on the counter. “How are you holding up.”

“Oh, you know. Not as bad as Minsk. Worse than Budapest.”

“The first time or the second?”

Clint gave it some thought. “Second.”

She muttered something sympathetic in Russian. “Maybe next time you should consider staying retired.”

He laughed, both of them knowing it would never happen. “Way ahead of you.”

**Wanda**

_Thunk…_

_Thunk…_

_Thunk…_

Wanda followed the noise into the gym.

_Thunk…_

She walked in as another dart buried in the wall about a foot away from a picture of Thaddeus Ross taped to the target.

“Looks like you need Clint.”

“Looks like I need to move closer,” Scott replied. He moved an arm's length away from the target and jammed the dart between the Secretary’s eyes. “Direct hit.” He turned and sent her a lopsided smile.

“Nice shot.” She smirked.

“It’s about time,” Sam called from the corner. He stepped out from behind the punching bag.

Wanda’s brow furrowed. “Are you sure you should be doing that? I thought Natasha said-”

He waved her off. “It’s been a week, and with the Wakandan bandages, I’m practically good as new.”

“If you’re sure… Something tells me we won’t be getting more for a while.”

“Don’t worry so much, Red.”

Wanda stopped short. “Red?”

“Red?” Scott echoed.

“I tried it. I heard it. Let’s move on.”

“Move on from what?” Natasha asked, walking through the door.

“You’re early,” Wanda said before Sam could answer. Natasha raised an eyebrow, but let her change the subject.

“I saw you heading this way and thought you might want to get started.”

Scott and Sam froze. They traded a look.

“Oh, I just remembered, I have a… thing,” Scott said speed walking to the door, “… at the beach.”

“With me,” Sam added rushing to follow. “We have the thing… we were going to do…”

“At the beach,” Scott provided as he scampered out the door.

“Right, at the beach.” Sam ripped his gloves off and threw them on the shelf, ignoring one as it fell to the floor. They ran faster than Clint when someone mentioned hand to hand combat.

“I think you scared them away,” Wanda said grabbing the tape to wrap her hands for a sparring match.

“Babies. No one appreciates a good training session anymore.”

Natasha stepped onto the mat and dropped into a defensive stance. “Ready?”

Wanda ripped off the last piece of tape and joined her. She ignored the part of her that wanted to run and join the boys on the beach and readied her stance. Her goal was to last a minute before her back hit the mat. Two weeks after their escape and she’d yet to succeed.

Natasha struck. The timer started. Wanda parried.

Another strike. Another parry.

A punch, a kick, a spinning combo, Wanda warded them off. Her confidence grew. She could do it. Another combo. She could-

Natasha swept her legs out from under her. Wanda landed on her back. She let out a breath.

“Again,” Natasha said offering a hand. Wanda took it, and they went again.

Twenty seconds, she was on her back.

Fifteen seconds, she was on her back.

Ten seconds, she was on her back.

“It’s like Steve and I never trained you at all,” Natasha scolded.

Fifteen seconds, Wanda was on her back.

“Sloppy.” Natasha helped her up.

Wanda regretted not escaping to the beach with the others.

Five seconds, she hit the mat.

“Come on, Wanda. You’re better than this. I trained you better than this. What’s going on?” Natasha helped her up. She paused, casting a worried eye over Wanda. “Your injuries aren’t still bothering you, are they?”

“No.” Wanda’s hand drifted to her neck. The burns were finally gone, the skin unmarred, but she swore she could tell the difference. Her ribs were healed, arms, wrists and fingers, good as new. “No, I’m fine.”

“Then why can’t you stay on your feet? You know you can use your powers.”

Wanda’s spine buzzed. She could. She knew she could. Why didn’t she? She’d sparred with Natasha a million times always using her abilities to keep her feet on the mat. Why hadn’t the strategy crossed her mind?

“I… I don’t...” Wanda clenched her teeth and shook her head. “Again.”

Natasha’s jaw ticked, but she nodded. Wanda reached out, reading what Natasha would do next.

Punch, Wanda dodged. Kick, Wanda parried. She saw a combo coming and jabbed at a weak spot.

“There you are.” Natasha smiled, then increased her speed. Combo, punch, combo, Wanda gathered energy in her hands, red spidering out ready to discharge. She spun out of the way of a punch and sent a blast toward Natasha. A knee collided with her ribs. The energy sputtered before it hit. Natasha flipped her onto her back.

Wanda lay on the mat and coughed. She took a shaky breath.

“What was that?” Natasha asked, stealing the question from Wanda’s mind making her wonder if she projected it.

Wanda cringed, working to sit up. Her hands dropped into her lap.

“I don’t...” She let out a frustrated breath lifting her fingers to twirl red energy between them. “I don’t understand. The experiments with Hydra, they were worse, far worse, than anything Secretary Ross ordered. They injected fire into my veins, cut samples from my body, slipped drugs into my food just to see what would happen. Why are a few shocks and punches weaker than anything you or Steve throw affecting me so much?”

She threw the small red stream at the target in a petulant flick. It struck the picture of Secretary Ross on the forehead. Natasha sighed, sliding down to sit on the mat. She studied her, waiting for Wanda to make eye contact.

“I had a mission once. Fury sent us to some backwater, nowhere war zone, and in a series of dumb luck and unfortunate events, the enemy grabbed me.” Natasha flicked a piece of flint off her sleeve. “They stuck me in a room, completely immobilized, and set a faucet to drip down on my forehead. Every drop of water hit the same spot, one after another… It was annoying at first, like an itch I couldn’t reach. It took an hour for my skin to start to crawl. I couldn’t move. No matter what I did that damn drop of water hit the same place every. single. time. I’d trained to have complete control of my body, of my surroundings. They took that away. Everything I’d ever learned, everything I tried, nothing could make it stop. After a day, I thought I was going crazy.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Eventually, Clint found me. He mounted a daring rescue, got me out, business as usual.” She shrugged. “Couldn’t hear a leaky faucet without losing it for a month.” Natasha turned to her. “You’ve read what happened in the red room in my head. How do you think dripping water compared?”

Wanda’s eyes dropped in shame. If she hadn’t messed with their heads, Stark wouldn’t have had the need to design the collar. She swallowed.

“I’m not bringing it up to make you feel bad, Wanda. I’m bringing it up so you understand. It’s different. The pain Hydra put you through was to make you strong. The pain Ross put you through… it was to make you _feel_ weak.”

Wanda looked down at her hand. She sparked another stream of energy to play between her fingers. “How did you get over it?”

A smirk slid across Natasha’s face. Wanda’s blood froze at the sight. She felt like a rabbit staring down the muzzle of a fox.

“I found my captors and dropped them in the middle of the ocean.”

Wanda forced herself not to suck in a breath. “Poetic.”

Natasha hummed her agreement. She unlatched a widow's bite from her wrist and tossed it over. Wanda grabbed it with a tendril of red and let it hover in front of her.

“Put it on, and get off your ass.”

Wanda shot it a wary look before snapping the latch around her wrist. She suppressed a flinch as it clicked. She took a measured breath as its electricity sizzled to life. Natasha pointed her toward the picture of Secretary Ross.

“It’s time for target practice.”

Wanda’s jaw clenched. She raised her arm and aimed. Taking a breath, she shot. A spike of fear erupted at the sound. The shock landed, scorching the Secretary’s head. A jolt of success shot through her. Wanda felt something ease. For the first time since their escape, she felt a little more like herself.

The smirk grew across Natasha’s face.

“Nice shot… Again.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Vision**

“Sir, Secretary Ross is waiting at the entrance.”

“Thank you, Friday,” Mr. Stark replied. He shared a look with Vis. “Are you ready?”

“I believe so, yes,” Vis answered.

“He’s going to try to provoke you, make you react. He wants to prove you’re unstable.”

“Yes.”

“You can’t let him.”

“I understand.”

“I’m serious Vision. You have to keep your cool.”

“As I’m made of vibranium, I don’t believe that will be an issue.”

Mr. Stark blinked. “Was that a joke?”

“I believe so, sir, yes.”

“No. No, no, no, no, only I’m allowed to joke. When you do it, it’s unsettling. Two rules for this meeting. Keep your cool and no joking.”

“Understood.”

Mr. Stark studied him as if trying to confirm he truly did. Vis wondered what he used as indicators. To his knowledge, he didn’t have any of the common human tells. He would have to ask Wanda the next time he saw her.

They stood in the office staring at each other for one hundred and twenty seconds.

“Mr. Stark?” Vision asked. Mr. Stark jumped. “The Secretary is still waiting.”

“Right… wait here.” He paused at the door. “Remember, cool as vibranium, lame as CSPAN.” He slipped out the door.

Vision debated pacing like he’d seen Captain Rogers do on occasion but decided against it. It would discharge the built-up energy in his leg circuits but might indicate nervousness. He did care for the Secretary knowing he was nervous.

The door opened. Vision turned to greet their guest.

“After you,” Mr. Stark offered.

Secretary Ross preceded him into the room and stopped short.

“The robot is already here, I see.”

“Mr. Secretary.” Vision tilted his head and nodded utilizing Jarvis’s subservience as much as possible.

“Android,” Mr. Stark corrected Secretary Ross, following him in and moving behind the desk. Vis kept his brow from furrowing. Was that one of the jokes Mr. Stark was talking about? He didn’t get it.

The Secretary seemed agitated.

“I really must insist you allow my guards to join us.” He swept a wary eye over Vis.

“What guards?” Mr. Stark took out his phone and started texting. Vis clasped his hands behind his back and tried to stand as unassuming as possible. “Sorry, it’s Pepper. You don’t mind do you?” Secretary Ross glared. He opened his mouth and Mr. Stark interrupted before anything could come out. “Oh, you mean the goons? Nope, the compound has a hard and fast no goons policy. Impossible to break, I’m afraid. Looks like it’s just us.” He hit send on his phone and looked up. “So what did you want to discuss?”

Secretary Ross’s jaw clenched and Vis wondered if maybe Mr. Stark’s strategy wasn’t the best to employ.

“The robot, can it find the girl?”

“Ooh, Wanda’s been upgraded from witch to girl. Why Mr. Secretary, is that the hint of a heart I sense? Now I really do feel bad for not having dinner ready.”

Mr. Stark said it for his benefit. Vis was appreciative, but he already knew the meeting would focus on Wanda. He combined his Ultron and Jarvis programs to sneak a glance at the Secretary’s preparation memos.

Secretary Ross’s face turned an unhealthy shade of red. Vis became concerned and decided an answer from him wouldn’t go amiss.

“Unfortunately, though Wanda’s powers are similar to my own, I cannot track her movements.”

Mr. Stark slapped his desk, drawing both their attentions. “That.” He pointed at Vis. “Perfect CSPAN voice. Don’t change a thing.” He turned back to the Secretary. “Well, you heard the man.” Ross scoffed. “Nothing to be done for it. Sorry to waste your time, what with the manhunt you’re busy coordinating.”

“Tony-” Secretary Ross tried as Mr. Stark flung an arm over his shoulder and started walking him to the door.

“No, you’re right. I’m sorry we wasted _my_ time. Multinational company to run and all. It takes an ungodly amount of time. I should know. I’m friends with Thor. Plus, there’s the whole new/old girlfriend situation… or girlfriend adjacent? She wasn’t very specific.”

The Secretary dug his heels in, forcing them both to stop. “Mr. Stark, I’m not finished.”

“You’re not?”

“No.”

“Oh, well… this is awkward.”

Secretary Ross shook his arm off and turned back to Vis. Mr. Stark’s attempt was endearing but ultimately unnecessary. Along with the memos were instructions… and videos. Vis forced himself to watch each one until his reactions were muted. He would, as Mr. Stark said, keep his cool.

“You say you can’t track her,” Secretary Ross addressed him.

“That is correct.”

“I see.” The Secretary’s eyes narrowed. “I’d like you to watch something.”

He held up a tablet. Vis took a step closer, but Mr. Stark rushed forward and beat him to it.

“What is this?” He asked, turning the device over to inspect it.

“Just a video. Play it for your robot, Stark.”

“Android,” he corrected offhand. He flipped the screen back around and held it for them both to watch.

Vis met his worried gaze and gave a small reassuring nod. Mr. Stark let out a nearly undetectable breath and hit play.

Wanda filled the screen. She was sitting at a metal table in a gray room. Her arms were restrained by a straight jacket and her eyes were glassy and unfocused from pain. A guard stood over her, the controller for the collar resting around her neck in his hand.

The door opened and another prisoner was marched in. Two guards flanked him as he dropped gracefully into the chair opposite Wanda.

The clip with Mr. Lehnsherr then. Vis was worried they would choose that one.

“What do we have here?” The prisoner asked. A curious glint lit his eyes. Wanda slumped over the table.

“Find the answers to these questions,” the guard ordered, placing a piece of paper in front of her.

The other prisoner leaned forward, trying to catch a glimpse. His guards grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back before he could see.

“No matter.” He shrugged. “I can probably guess.”

“Begin,” the guard ordered.

Wanda dragged her gaze from the guard to the prisoner then back. “It’s still activated,” she said, her voice hoarse, Viz assumed from the screams of pain he’d seen in the other videos.

The guards laughed. “Seems she’s catching on,” one of them joked. Vis made a note to look up his name later and create a list of infractions for the new UN Security Council’s committee.

The guard with the controller made a show of pressing a button at the bottom and laying it down on the table. The other prisoner cast a mildly concerned look between it and her collar. Wanda’s eyes glowed red.

“I really must caution you, dear,” the prisoner said, leaning back without a care. “I have it on good authority my mind can be quite inhospitable.”

Wanda’s brow furrowed. They sat a few minutes more. The other prisoner threw his head back and laughed.

“Touché,” he said looking around the room, seeing something no one but he and Wanda could see. “If not a bit heavy-handed. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Wanda blanched. Her eyes widened. Red misted the air.

“Well, hello.” The other prisoner’s eyes crinkled in amusement.

The guards shifted, uneasy. One of them pulled their nightstick. Another snatched the controller from the table.

“Stop it, witch.”

Wanda’s breathing became erratic. Her gaze darted around the room. A hand lifted to fend off an unseen attack. One of the guards moved to grab her, and the mist hardened into a shield. He bounced off and rammed into the wall. Tendrils of red spidered off of Wanda filling the room as she fought to control her breathing.

“My, aren’t you a sight.” The prisoner watched mesmerized. He turned to the frantic guards. “I should have mentioned, I have an old friend who likes to poke around sometimes without asking. I may have asked someone to lay a few traps.”

The guards ignored him. The one with the controller pressed a button. The collar sizzled on Wanda’s neck before her body seized. She dropped to the floor, a scream ripped from her throat. Psionic energy burst around her attacking the collar. It sensed it and sizzled… then died.

The energy spread out looking for a new threat to neutralize as Wanda scrambled to the corner. She curled in a ball clutching her head.

“Vis,” she muttered barely loud enough to hear over the yelling guards and laughing prisoner. “Please, Vis, can you hear me?” She bit back a sob. The guard with the controller lifted it. “Please, Vis, I need help.”

The guard pressed the button to deliver the shock manually. The collar sizzled. Her body seized. She screamed. The guard kept pressing the button until the red retreated and her screams faded.

The clip ended.

Vis noticed his fists were clenched behind his back. He couldn’t find when he sent the command in his memory banks. Regardless, he relaxed them. It wouldn’t do to react. As Mr. Stark said, cool as vibranium.

He felt movement at his side. Mr. Stark slammed the tablet down on his desk. It cracked in half.

“Oops.”

“That was government property,” Secretary Ross said, glee radiating off his face.

Mr. Stark shrugged. “Accidents happen.”

Vis was happy they wouldn’t be watching the other clips. Secretary Ross hummed before turning to study him.

“You say you can’t track her, but she seemed pretty sure she could contact you from a maximum-security prison. How would you explain that?”

“Desperation,” Vis answered immediately. Mr. Stark’s cortisol levels were unusually high, and he was worried he might say something he would regret. “Wanda was suffering in a high-stress environment. It makes sense that she would try to call out for a friend.”

“Friend...” the Secretary looked him over, “Is that what you are?”

“The very best,” Mr. Stark growled from his side. The circuits in Vis’s chest warmed despite the worry buzzing through him. “I think it’s time you leave.”

“Not yet, Stark. I have questions for you, too.”

“Like what?”

“Like, why did your design fail in the middle of a crisis?”

“My design?” Mr. Stark took a step closer to the Secretary. “My design never left _my_ research facility. I’m wondering how you came by it at all.”

“Wiki Leaks.” A mocking smile spread across the Secretary’s face.

Mr. Stark took another step forward before restraining himself. Vis worried as his cortisol levels spiked higher.

“Then I’d say you should go to them for your psionic sensor issues. It’s not my responsibility to build you something strong enough to handle the kid.”

The Secretary’s smile grew.

“It is now.” He pulled something from behind his back and tossed it on the floor. The metal ring slid to a stop at Mr. Stark’s feet. Vis was tempted to blast the collar out of existence. Keep your cool, a voice whispered through his memory banks. It sounded suspiciously like Wanda. “Fix the… sensor issue, you said? UN’s orders.” He pulled out a packet of papers and held them out.

Mr. Stark’s mouth opened then closed a few times. He strode forward glaring at the Secretary’s smug face. He ripped the orders from his hands and scanned through them. Mr. Stark looked between Secretary Ross and the papers.

“Unless, of course, you want to break the Accords. I’m sure we can find you a cell next to your friends.”

Mr. Stark’s fist clenched.

“Fuck it.”

He slammed it into Secretary Ross’s face.

After Mr. Stark called Friday to escort the Secretary off the premises, Vis turned to him.

“What?” Mr. Stark snapped leaning back in his chair with a hand over his eyes.

“That was an excellent example of… keeping your cool.” Vis let a wry grin cross his face.

Mr. Stark peeked under his hand. He blinked. Then laughed. It was a hopeless, unbelieving sound. He dropped his hand and glared at the metal circle sitting on his desk.

“Mr. Stark?” Vis asked, trying to distract him from the offending project. He was pretty sure that’s what friends were for.

“Yeah?” he replied, not looking away from his desk.

“You told Secretary Ross I’m an android.”

Mr. Stark’s eyes flicked up. “Yeah?”

“You know I’m not an android, right?”

“Yeah,” he said, a smile drifting across his face, “but it annoys the shit out of Ross.”

Vis gave it some thought. “I suppose on closer examination Jarvis was an android. The description isn’t completely inaccurate.”

“You got it, buddy.”

**Wanda**

“Five on Nat,” Clint threw the bill down on the towel. He grabbed a rock from the beach and put it on top to keep it from blowing away.

Wanda peeked over from her spot reading a Sokovian novel Natasha found during her last supply run. It was nice to see him relaxing. He acted normal around the group, but she could tell he missed Laura and the kids. His mind practically shouted it at her.

Sam groaned. “You always pick Romanov.”

“Because she always wins.”

“Not true,” Scott said, tossing down his own bill. “She cheats. Cap all the way.”

Wanda had to stifle a laugh as a spike of fanboy elation bled off of him.

“It’s not cheating if there isn’t a rule.” Clint shrugged.

“You’re both crazy,” Sam said.

“Does that mean you’re not going to bet?” Clint asked.

Sam looked between them then back at Nat and Steve preparing in the ocean. He pulled out a crisp five dollar bill and placed it under the rock.

“Don’t tell Steve.”

“Traitor,” Steve called, swinging his arms back and forth over the water as he studied Nat.

Sam swore. “Stupid World War Two relics with their stupid super hearing.”

“I can still hear you, you know.” Steve smirked, cutting a glance over at their group.

“Aw, don’t blame them, Steve. It’s not their fault they know a winning hand when they see one,” Nat said dipping under the surface before emerging and going through a breathing routine.

“Don’t let her get in your head, Cap,” Scott called. “You got this. You and your ridiculously sculpted muscles.” He turned to Clint and Sam. “I mean have you seen the guy’s pecks? That can’t be natural.”

“It’s not,” Steve said, lifting a hand to plug his nose.

“Definitely not,” Clint echoed.

“Did you pay attention in history at all?” Sam rolled his eyes. “There are before and after pictures and everything.”

Wanda dogeared her page and closed the book to watch.

“Three,” Clint yelled.

“Two,” Sam joined him.

“One,” Clint, Sam, and Scott yelled. Natasha and Steve sank under the surface. A wave crashed over their heads.

A minute passed.

“A little anticlimactic, ain’t it?” Scott asked.

No one answered.

“A bit boring,” Clint admitted.

Wanda felt their minds drift. Waves continued to crash, Natasha and Steve still lost somewhere underneath. She could hear Natasha scheming and Steve enjoying the quiet. Sam flicked at some sand. He was running through the members of his support group, hoping they continued in his absence. Wanda bit back her reassurance. Everyone knew she could read them, but they didn’t always appreciate the reminder.

“What are they at?” Sam asked.

Clint checked his watch. “Five minutes.”

“Worst. Sport. Ever,” Scott complained letting his head fall to rest in the sand. Wanda caught the stray thought that his daughter would love it.

They sat in silence, waiting to see who would come up first. Wanda felt Natasha prepare a surprise offensive and sent Steve a warning. He deserved a win. One out of ten wasn’t so bad.

“Is anyone else bored?” Clint asked.

They all looked at him.

“Well… yeah,” Scott lifted his head. “That was kinda the point of the conversation we’ve been having for the past… six?” He shot Sam a questioning look.

“Eight,” Sam supplied.

“Eight minutes.”

Clint rolled his eyes. Wanda looked at him with interest sensing what he meant. “I don’t just mean with this. I mean with _this_ ,” he said waving his hand at the beach and safe house.

Sam and Scott looked at each other.

“You mean with Tahiti?” Sam asked, eyebrows raised.

“Well… yeah.” Wanda felt longing spike through him. Clint wanted his wife and kids and it was making him antsy. “I mean I get it. Tahiti’s… a magical place –” a ghost of a smile curled his lips – “but are we really going to lounge around until they overturn the Accords? What if they never do? What if they do, and they don’t pardon us? We did break out of jail, a crime all on its own.”

Sam and Scott traded another look.

“Well,” Sam hedged, “what did you have in mind?”

“I don’t know,” Clint flicked some sand at him. Sam swatted at it and a chunk rained down on Scott’s face.

“Nice,” Scott deadpanned. He puffed out a breath to get the sand out of his mouth.

“It’s a big world,” Clint continued as if nothing happened. “There’s bound to be someone who needs help.”

A foreign thought drifted through Wanda’s head. One gleaned from a careless guard in a gray interrogation room. Hatred and fear swirled around a list of names… Targets.

An image followed. The people from the list were marched into the Raft, collars latched around their necks. Men, women, children, it didn’t matter. The guard wanted them. His friends wanted them. Men, women, and children who had no idea what was coming.

Wanda caught Clint’s eye.

“I think I may have an idea.”

He nodded a smile growing across his face. For the first time in a month, it crinkled his eyes.

Natasha broke the surface. Scott cheered and gathered the money. Clint and Sam groaned. Steve came up a few seconds later.

They’d been lost under the water for long enough. It was time to come up for air.


	5. Chapter 5

**Wanda**

Wanda sat at a table in front of a cafe and sipped her tea. If she leaned a little to her left and looked down the avenue, she could just make out the top of Stark Tower. She wondered if Vision was there. Of course not, she scolded herself. He was on the compound where it was safe. She couldn’t help the disappointment knowing he was farther out of her reach.

Customers and pedestrians buzzed around her. Wanda pulled her hat down and adjusted her sunglasses trying not to think about the last time she tried to blend in at a cafe during a mission.

“You’re doing fine,” Natasha said from two tables over as she monitored the road behind Wanda, “just relax.”

“Easy for you to say,” Wanda muttered into her tea. “They don’t want to kill you.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Natasha let a small smirk touch her lips. Wanda sent her a subtle look. “I may have run into a few Watchdog groups during some past missions. They’re not my biggest fan.”

Wanda smiled and took another sip.

A stone flew down out of nowhere and tore through a paper on the newsstand on the corner. It left a hole where Tony’s face used to be under the headline “Tony Stark to Track Down UN’s Most Wanted”. Ten more stacks of Tony staring down their mugshots lined the stand. The vendor started yelling at a group of kids walking by for destroying his property.

“Oops,” Clint’s voice came through the comms.

“You couldn’t have waited until they were passed?” Scott complained from his spot on Wanda’s shoulder.

“Got a soft spot for pickpockets, Lang?” Clint asked. Wanda snuck a look over her shoulder and saw a man patting his pockets, trying to find his wallet. He looked up and headed for the group of teens stuck at the newsstand.

“Maybe,” Scott grumbled. “How did I get stuck with a bunch of straight-laced fugitives?”

Wanda flicked an annoyed glance at him. “How did I get stuck with a babysitter?”

“They’re trying to kill you remember?” Natasha said.

“They’re trying to kill Cap, too.”

“Don’t bring me into this.”

Natasha sent an exasperated look to his place across the street. “Steve doesn’t have backup because he-”

“Can take care of himself?” Wanda’s eyes narrowed. She could, too.

“Isn’t a teenager, has more experience, has a higher rank, take your pick.”

Wanda rolled her eyes and stirred more sugar into her tea. Sam was rubbing off.

“You know, you could always go to high school instead,” Clint said.

She almost groaned. He’d been trying to convince her since she came back with him from Sokovia. He didn’t seem to understand she hadn’t been to school since her first foster family. They tried to split her and Pietro up, and instead of staying with different families, they decided to try their luck on the streets together. After that, school wasn’t a priority. Little things – like food and shelter – took most of their time.

Strucker gave them some basic lessons, but she didn’t exactly trust what he taught them. Other than that, she had some hands-on training with Tony on the compound, but that was it. Her gaze shot to the picture of him glaring at her mugshot on the newsstand and a pang cut through her chest.

“I don’t think that’s an option anymore.”

Another rock flew down and ripped through Tony’s face. Wanda let out a soft laugh.

She leaned back and continued to scan the road. As relaxing as Tahiti was, it felt nice to be out doing something. After she gave the list of names she gleaned off the guard to Natasha, it took less than a day for her to narrow it down.

Most of the names were kids, students really, at a place called Xavier’s Institute for Gifted Children. Wanda had ignored the leading stare Clint shot her as Natasha assured them everyone attending the Institute was in good hands. A few others were families on the run or people who had already disappeared. Wanda hoped they were just laying low.

Natasha’s research continued to whittle the list down until it found subjects with high public visibility and a low regard for self-preservation. They were left with one name.

“Annoying spider kid at your six,” Sam crackled through the comms.

“Who’s six?” Cap and Natasha asked at the same time.

“Wanda’s.”

Natasha got up from her table and tossed a few bills down before disappearing into the crowd. Wanda followed exactly twenty seconds later.

“He’s not that bad, Sam,” she said as she continued up the street.

“He clipped my wings in Leipzig,” Sam pouted. “Now, I have to be down here… on the ground… like a chump.”

“Yeah you do,” Clint rubbed it in from his high vantage point.

“Look alive people,” Cap cut through the grumbling. “Follow him as long as possible and look for others who are doing the same. Remember, our goal isn’t to disrupt the kid’s life. He comes this way semi-routinely.” Natasha scoffed. “If the Watchdogs are looking for him chances are they’ll start here.” A red and blue blur shot overhead, swinging from one building to another. “Go.”

Wanda slipped down an alley and took off, launching herself onto the closest roof.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what are you doing?” Tiny Scott yelled from her shoulder. She didn’t hear it come through the comms and was grateful. “What if someone sees?”

“They won’t.”

She spotted the red and blue costume turning a corner and moved toward the adjacent roof. Energy pulsed in her hands. She used it to launch, cutting the power and telltale glow until they were over the landing site. Red misted below them as she softened their fall.

“Oh… oh, I get it. Nice… great idea… maybe a heads up next time?”

Wanda launched to the next roof.

“Not that I don’t love flying. I do.”

She launched to the next roof.

“I’ve even petitioned for my own pair of wings.” Scott’s voice grew more worried as they went. “Just never really… We’re like, really high.”

She launched to the next roof keeping an eye out for anyone following the same route she was.

“And you keep cutting… well, essentially our engines.”

Wanda watched the red and blue costume disappear down an alley and not come out.

“I’m not sure I’m as into the whole… controlled fall as I am flying-”

“Quiet,” she said, moving to peek over the edge and down into the alley.

“Ok,” Scott squeaked.

A kid stuffed the costume into a backpack before sprinting out onto the street.

“Anyone have eyes?” Steve asked over the comms.

“We do,” Wanda answered.

“Where?”

“Midtown School of Science and Technology,” Scott said as they watched the kid run into the building just before the bell rang. “Looks like Peter Parker’s late for school.”

**Clint**

Clint dropped down into the alley next to the group. It looked like he was the last to arrive.

“Nice of you to join us,” Sam said leaning against the wall as he examined the school.

“How are the wings, birdman?”

“That’s hurtful.” Sam glared from the corner of his eye. “You know that’s hurtful –“ he crossed his arms – “and it’s Falcon.”

“Uh huh.” Clint turned to study the building. “So the kid’s inside?”

“Yep,” Nat answered.

“And we can’t follow?”

“Not long-term.”

“Wanda, are you sensing anything from inside?” Cap asked.

Clint watched her eyes flare as she tried to focus. She shook her head pushing a finger against her temple.

“There are too many.” She took a measured breath. “I can’t pick anything out.”

Cap put a hand on her shoulder. “That’s all right. Chances are any Watchdogs will have the same problem we do. I’m tempted to say-”

Wanda’s head snapped up. Her eyes sparked, red mist drifting into the alley and frizzing her hair. Clint scanned the street, keeping an eye out for anyone looking in their direction.

“He’s there.”

“What?” Cap stared at her, his hand tightening in concern. “Wanda, are you ok?”

“The guard, he’s there,” she said. The red mist surrounded their group ready to shield them if necessary. It was sweet… but conspicuous. Clint shifted, uneasy.

They turned to look. Clint saw Nat step by Wanda’s side and mutter something too low to hear. Slowly, the red glow faded from the alley.

They watched a man walk up to the school’s door. Clint recognized him. He had a couple healed bruises he wouldn’t mind returning. He waited for the school’s rent-a-cop to turn him away.

She didn’t.

The guard strode into the school like he owned it.

_ Shit. _

“I guess we do need a way in,” Cap said, his disbelief mirroring Clint’s.

“That’s great,” Sam said, “but how –”

Cap flicked his eyes toward Wanda. Clint couldn’t stop a smile from spreading across his face. Sam laughed.

One by one everyone turned to stare at Wanda. Her eyes narrowed.

“No way.”

Clint stepped forward and flung an arm over her shoulders. “Looks like your chance at a normal US High School experience is still an option.”

Wanda groaned.

**Tony**

“You punched the Secretary of State?” Pepper yelled.

“There may have been a situation where my fist came into contact with a certain politician’s face… yes… he started it.” Tony raised his hands in defense. He remembered he had a bouquet of flowers and held them out. It might help. Pepper's eyes flicked from the bouquet to his face.

“You  _ punched _ the Secretary of State. Are you… do you have any idea… no, of course, you don’t. He’s looking for any excuse, Tony. He wants to prove you’re unstable.”

“Funny, I feel like I was just on the other side of this conversation.”

“What?” She gave him the exasperated look he’d learned the hard way not to test.

“Dinner,” he said… normally… his panic definitely didn’t leak into his voice. “I have dinner ready.” He pointed toward the dining room. “Our second date this week,” he added hoping pointing out he was following her conditions would help.

Her eyes narrowed. “Because I made you.”

Trap… it was a trap. Backpedal Tony. Say something charming, or complementing, or –

“Yes?” His mouth answered before he could stop it.

“I see...”

“No, I mean, yes –“ why did he keep saying that? – “I mean no.”

“Well, which is it, Tony?”

He took a breath. “Pepper, you look beautiful, and I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to spend the evening with you.” He swept a hand inside in invitation. “I’ve been looking forward to our dinner all day.”

He held his breath. Her eyes softened. She paused… before stepping inside. He breathed out. There… why didn’t he start with that? He shook his head before stepping forward to take her coat.

“Tony,” she said, disappointment bleeding through her tone. His heart dropped. “Why did you punch him?”

He put his hand on the small of her back and led her to the dining room, stalling for time. She gasped when she saw it. Flower petals, white linens, candles the whole nine-yards, her reaction made it worth the money. He made a mental note to tip the designer well.

Tony pulled her chair out and was able to avoid answering until he sat on his own. He popped a bottle of champagne – her favorite vintage – and wilted under her stare.

“He stole a design of mine,” he said, pouring them both a glass, “and used it to hurt someone.”

Pepper’s glass paused halfway to her mouth. Her brow furrowed in concern.

“Which design?”

Tony tapped his fingers on the table before getting up to grab the first course. Chef Morro truly outdid herself. Five courses sat on the serving tray arranged in order so they could maintain a private dinner. He sighed staring at the covered plates.  _ Just say it, Tony. _

“The shock collar.” He uncovered two dishes and brought them to the table as quickly as possible. “Soup?” He put Pepper’s bowl on her placemat and sat down.

He stared at her stunned face.

“You mean the one you built for-”

“The one I built when I was scared and angry and out of my mind… Yeah, that’s the one.” He didn’t want to hear Pepper say it. Tony took a sip of his soup, and if it wasn’t the most delicious thing he’d tasted in years he’d give up his sports cars. He pushed the bowl away.

“Oh, Tony.” Pepper stared in sympathy. “So you punched him?”

“No.”

“No?”

“He told me I needed to improve it… then I punched him.”

“Improve it?” Pepper looked like she was going to be sick.

“Apparently, the hack he had modify the psionic sensors didn’t account for exponential events. Wa-… the subject overpowered it.”

Pepper grabbed her Champagne flute. “Good for her.” She took a generous sip. Pepper studied him. “Is she ok?”

Tony looked down, dipping his spoon in the soup and tipping it back into the bowl.

“I don’t know.”

Pepper pursed her lips. “Have you asked Vision?”

Tony’s head shot up. His eyes darted around the room. “Don’t say that,” he hissed.

Pepper looked alarmed. “Tony.”

He met her worried gaze. “You said it before. He’s looking for any excuse… Vision isn’t in contact with anyone outside the compound.”

Pepper put down her Champagne. “Ok…” She dipped her spoon in her soup. It stopped halfway to her mouth before she abandoned it. “So are you going to do it?”

“What?” Tony glanced up from the table.

“Improve the design.”

He looked away, his fingers danced the mamba on his knee.

“I have to. I signed the Accords.”

Pepper stared at him. Something flashed behind her eyes. “What did the actual orders say?”

His brow furrowed. “That I have to improve the original design.”

“Did they detail how?”

Tony stopped short. No… they didn’t. They left the “improvements” up to him. A smile ghosted across his face.

“Pepper Potts you’re a genius.”

She winked and lifted her spoon. Tony pulled his bowl closer and followed her lead. The spoon stopped halfway to his mouth.

“Pepper… Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?” He was afraid to look up from his bowl. He felt her stare bore into the top of his head. She sighed and reached across the table for his hand.

“Probably around the same time you forgive Steve.”

“Yeah…” he sipped the soup off his spoon. “I was afraid you would say that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, thank you so much for the support! You have no idea how much your comments and kudos make my day. 
> 
> Just a quick note about Sam's wings... I know, I know you're all thinking 'but Sam was flying after he fought against Spiderman during Civil War', and you would be right. I completely, utterly... accidentally wrote a plot hole in. Terribly sorry! Hopefully, it doesn't take away from the story too much. 
> 
> Thanks again for reading, and I hope you're all having a fantastic week!


	6. Chapter 6

**Natasha**

Natasha walked into the too-small apartment and dropped an armful of supplies in the middle of the room.

“Don’t say I never get you anything.” She smiled at the group crowded on and around the single couch.

Sam shot up and scrambled to the pile. “A wing? Where did you get this?” He held it up like a prize won at a rigged carnival game.

“You wouldn’t believe what Tony leaves lying around the compound.”

“The compound?” Steve asked, voice stern.

Natasha held up a hand to ward off the lecture. “He was out. I wasn’t seen.”

“And Vision?”

Wanda perked up.

“Otherwise… distracted.”

“Is he ok?” Wanda asked.

“Fine,” Natasha assured. “Honestly, I think he was trying for plausible deniability.”

A wistful smile pulled at Wanda’s lips. “What was distracting him?”

“Soup.” Wanda shot her a questioning look. “He was cooking something. Smelled like Paprikash.” Natasha shrugged.

Wanda’s smile grew.

“Scott, do you think you can attach this to my suit?” Sam asked not caring about the conversation anymore as long as it meant he got to fly again.

“Sure, why not.” Scott rocked to his feet. He clapped Sam on the shoulder and started to lead him to the workspace they set up. “I haven’t blown anything up in at least a month.”

“What?” Sam hugged the wing to his chest. “You haven’t worked on anything in a month… We were in Tahiti.”

“I know.” Scott nodded sagely. “Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll keep my record clean…” He glanced at the wing and shrugged a shoulder. “Probably.”

Sam hugged it tighter but followed him out of the room. He didn’t have a choice. Scott was their only engineer.

“I got something for you, too.” Natasha tossed something light and flappy at Wanda. A red tendril snaked out and caught it. “Other than a Vision sighting that is.”

Wanda rolled her eyes and poked the rubbery material. “Is this a mask?” She asked, flicking her gaze to Natasha.

“Right in one. With all the media you’ve been getting you’re too recognizable. This should keep you under the radar.” Natasha nodded her head toward a mirror. “Try it on.”

“This just keeps getting better,” Wanda grumbled pressing the material to her face. She jumped as it contracted and stuck. Natasha made a mental note to add a lap to their next training session for the reaction.

The mask glittered, then rippled. A new face looked out from Wanda’s body.

“That’s just weird,” Clint said, his hand paused halfway through cleaning his bow.

Wanda examined her face in the mirror, running a subconscious hand through her hair.

“I think you look great,” Steve said, cutting a look over to Clint. The archer shrugged and went back to cleaning his bow.

Wanda shot him a grateful smile before turning to face them. “It is a bit unsettling.”

Steve looked at Natasha in surprise. “Her voice is the same?”

Natasha repressed the urge to shift on her feet. It was a risk, but there wasn’t an alternative. “The distorter is broken.” She looked away from Steve’s puppy dog eyes. Seriously, did the serum improve everything, or were they always like that? “It was all I could find.” She turned to Wanda. “Just no glowing eyes or power surges, and you should be fine.” Natasha narrowed her eyes to stress her point. “That means no repeats of the alley incident.”

Wanda stepped forward and slipped the backpack Natasha brought onto her back. “Right… so American High School where I have to control my emotions around an ignorant sadist and have a Sokovian accent… easy.”

“We didn’t want you to miss the teenage angst bit,” Clint said without looking away from his bow. “You deserve the whole experience.”

“Don’t worry,” Steve said, abandoning the stern look he shot Clint. He held out a comm with a confident smile. “Keep this activated, and we’ll help with whatever you need.”

Wanda relaxed and slipped the device into her ear. She nodded. “Ok… first day… anything else I should know?”

Clint glanced at his watch, then held it up for them to see. “You’re late.”

**Wanda**

Wanda sat at her desk and fiddled with the unassuming bracelet on her wrist.

“Just in case,” Natasha had said when she handed it over. “You never know when someone will need a little nip.”

Wanda almost sagged in relief. Her powers were too distinct so she was relegated to reading only for the duration of the mission or risk recapture… She was _never_ going to let that happen. It was nice to know she had a widow’s bite for backup.

“Today, we’ll begin our analysis of Arthur Miller’s  _ The Crucible… _ ,” the teacher droned from the front of the room.

Wanda flipped the book open and scanned the room. Peter was sitting a couple seats over to her right in the back of the room. His friend Ned sat in front of him, and they had some kind of note passing scheme going to a girl named Michelle in the front row. From what Wanda had gathered, the girl preferred MJ.

It was almost lunchtime, and so far, Peter was in every class she’d attended. She had the sinking feeling her schedule would follow him around all day…  _ Not conspicuous at all Natasha _ .

The bell rang.

“I expect everyone to have the first Act read by Thursday,” the teacher said. Wanda packed up her bag and headed for the door. The others mentioned lunch would be a good time to try to get closer to Peter. “Ms. Belova, can you hang back for a moment please?”

It took a Wanda a second to remember her cover. She paused. “Of course.”

The rest of the students filed out and the teacher, Mrs. Lille, turned to her with concerned eyes. “I understand English is your second language.”

“Yes... ma’am,” Wanda added remembering the courtesy from a lifetime ago in her Sokovian school. Did Americans use properties with their teachers?

“Ma’am?” Scott laughed through the comm. She guessed not. He was currently shrunk and hidden under her lapel. It seemed not even school could strip her of a babysitter.

“Just because you weren’t raised with manners...” Steve crackled over the comm.

“Hey,” Scott grumbled.

“I wanted to check with you about the homework,” Mrs. Lille distracted Wanda from the byplay. “Your records indicate it won’t be an issue, but they aren’t always the best indicators with situations… like yours.”

“Like mine?” Wanda let an ironic smile pull her lips as she repeated her cover story, “You mean how I missed a couple years because my school disintegrated along with the rest of my home city?” It was how they justified holding her back to the same grade as Peter.

“Well… yes,” Mrs. Lille flashed her a nervous smile.

“It should be fine.” Wanda focused and let her eyes crinkle with her expression. Mrs. Lille relaxed. After all, how hard could a play be after the experimental biology manuals Strucker used to teach her and Pietro English?

“Good. Let me know if anything changes. We have programs that can help if you fall behind.”

“Mmhm,” Wanda hummed. “Can I...” She motioned toward the door.

The teacher jumped. “Oh, yes, of course. Enjoy your lunch.”

“Thank you, m- I will.” She stopped the pleasantry from escaping.

Scott snickered from under her lapel.

~*~*~

The cafeteria was worse than a robot infested Sokovia. Teens jostled each other in line, trying to get to the front before their allotted time to eat ended. Wanda, almost the last to arrive, walked away with a lump resembling something edible with fifteen minutes to spare.

She debated skipping the meal completely. Her stomach growled at the idea, and she rethought it. Scanning the tables she didn’t spot Peter and decided to take her tray outside. She didn’t know why Americans insisted on doing everything inside, especially on days as beautiful as that one.

Wanda sat down at a picnic table in the courtyard and let the sun warm away the artificial coolness from the school’s air conditioning.

“So halfway through your first day… What do you think?” Scott asked, climbing up onto her shoulder.

Three classes in and she already had three hours of homework due the next day. Peter’s schedule was insane. She wondered how he kept up with it and monitored the neighborhood at the same time. “I miss the compound.”

Scott’s tiny hand patted her shoulder. “I’m sure Vis misses you, too.”

“You think?” She asked. “I wish he was with us.” She debated reaching out to him before dismissing it. What if Tony was monitoring for an attempt? Would he turn him in?

He turned her in...

“Do you though?” Scott asked.

She thought about their small apartment and constant disguises to keep under the radar. Wanda sighed. “No… not really.”

A snicker echoed behind her. “Are you talking to yourself?” Wanda spun and was greeted by a small band of students led by a bottle blond with too much makeup. The blond’s mouth twisted into a mocking smile. “Enjoy your conversation.” The others laughed and turned to walk to another table before she could get a word in.

_ Great… first day and she was already the weird kid. _

Wanda turned back and stabbed her plastic spork into the lump on her tray. Flashbacks from her last school experience sped through her head. Kids laughing at the weird, sickly girl until they realize she was Pietro’s sister. She wished he was there. He was always better with people.

“Ignore them.” Wanda felt the girl’s presence before she heard her. “And don’t eat that.” She dropped across the table and tossed half a sandwich onto the empty side of Wanda’s tray. “There are rumors its made from rats the cafeteria workers catch in the back.”

Wanda raised an eyebrow and grabbed the sandwich.

“Yeah, it’s farfetched but as skeptical as I am, I’m tempted to believe it. Budget cuts.” The girl gave half a shrug before picking up her half of the sandwich.

“MJ, right?” Wanda asked.

A glint lit the girl’s eye. She nodded. “I think I saw you in English. It’s Ana, right?”

Wanda nodded and took a bite. Much better than the slop on her tray. She raised the sandwich. “Thank you.”

She took another bite.

“It’s the least I could do after we blew up your city.”

Wanda almost choked. Natasha crackled through the comm and told her she was adding another lap to their next training session. Wanda swallowed and cleared her throat.

“I’m not sure that’s exactly how it...”

MJ shrugged. “Close enough.”

Wanda felt two familiar minds pick their way closer to their table. Ned and Peter collapsed onto the benches next to them.

“It’s a jungle in there,” Ned said scooping bites of the as yet unidentified lump into his mouth. “We barely got out in time.”

Peter and MJ shared a look before he turned to Wanda.

“Hi, I’m Peter.” He held out his hand.

“Nice to meet you.” She shook his hand. “I’m Ana.”

His brow furrowed. She could almost see the gears turning behind his eyes. “Hey, you sound familiar. Have we met?”

She forced herself not to hold her breath.  _ Act natural _ . The thought sounded like Natasha.

“I think we had a few of the same classes earlier.”

“Oh yeah,” Ned said through a mouthful as he tried to finish his food before lunch ended. “It’s your first day right?”

She nodded.

“How do you like it?”

“It’s… different.”

“I got it.” Peter perked up and snapped his fingers. “You sound like Scarlet Witch.”

Wanda kept her face blank, but couldn’t stop a small intake of breath. Natasha crackled through the comms and added another lap. She sounded nervous.

“It must be the accent,” he continued. “You’re from Sokovia too, right?” She nodded, hoping she didn’t look like a rabbit caught in a trap. “I saw her once in a fight. She was amazing.”

MJ groaned. Ned’s eyes glittered in excitement.

“Amazing?” Wanda asked, a little flattered.

“Yeah,” Peter said, misunderstanding her meaning, “don’t believe everything you read in the papers. She’s actually really nice.”

Wanda wondered where he got that impression. She was pretty sure the last time they met, she’d thrown a truck at him. Still, the vote of confidence made her sit a little straighter.

She let out a noncommittal hum. They were getting into dangerous territory. She needed to steer the conversation away from anything connected to her real identity. “So where did you see her in action?”

Peter sputtered, shooting a nervous look at MJ before throwing out a half-baked explanation. Wanda watched MJ’s eyes narrow. She wondered if Peter realized how obvious he was being. She glanced at his earnest face, reminding her so much of Vis’s… probably not.

The bell rang. Ned groaned looking at his half-empty tray in longing.

MJ patted him on the shoulder in sympathy.

“Once more unto the breach, my friend.”

~*~*~

Math.

Of course, it was Math.

Wanda squeezed her eyes shut and willed them not to spark red. She took a measured breath and looked back to the front of the room.

“Well...” Cap crackled in her ear. “At least now we know how he’s getting into the building.”

Wanda glared at the back of the guard’s head as he wrote out a formula on the board. Ned had leaned over at the beginning of class and told her their normal teacher was sick. Apparently, they’d had a substitute for a couple of weeks.

“Can anyone tell me how to solve this problem?” The man turned around and faced the class.

Peter’s hand shot up. No one else moved.

“Anyone at all?” The man asked again, ignoring him. He paused… nothing. “It’s a simple problem.” He tapped a finger on his desk and scanned the room.

It was not. Wanda had seen  _ Tony _ working on easier problems. Not many, but still.

“Mr. Lester?” Peter called from his spot, wide-eyed and innocent. “It looks like its a-”

“Did I call on you Mr. Parker?” Lester interrupted.

“Well, no but-”

“Then I suggest you stop talking. The others in the class would like the chance to answer, as well.”

Peter’s face fell. Wanda felt her power jolt, wanting to throw a shield between him and the substitute. She reeled it in.

MJ raised her hand.

“Yes, Ms...” he scanned the seating chart… “Jones?”

“As Peter was trying to say, the problem looks like-”

“I didn’t ask for Peter’s answer, Ms. Jones. I asked for yours,” Lester interrupted again, “or is that outside your capabilities.”

MJ raised a brow and refused to answer.

“Easy, Wanda,” Scott chirped in her ear. His weight under her lapel was a comfort.

She fought the urge to jump and looked down. The air around her hands was tinged red. She took a breath and reeled it in.

Lester looked over the seating chart and chose a name.

“Ms. Belova –” Wanda bit back a groan – “would you care to hazard a guess?”

If this was High School, she wasn’t going to last a week.


	7. Chapter 7

**Clint**

Scott snored.

Clint rolled over.

Steve snored.

Clint shoved his pillow over his ears.

Scott snored again.

“Come on,” Clint muttered under his breath. He switched to his back. The pillow pressed against his face making him feel a little too much like the time in Minsk when a war criminal tried to smother him.

They both snored.

“That’s it.” Clint rolled off his cot and grabbed his bow from underneath. He threaded between the others spread out in the apartment’s main room and wondered how Wanda and Natasha were able to sleep.

He slipped out the door and headed for the elevator. Pushing the button, he rubbed a hand over his face trying to wipe the fuzz from lack of sleep off his brain. Clint took the elevator to the storage level in the basement.

It was the reason Natasha chose the building for her safe house. Tiny apartment. Big storage space. At least big enough for a two car garage. He pulled the door open, careful not to disturb Sam in the corner. After the first night, he grabbed his cot and decided to brave the cold rather than the snoring. Clint was tempted to do the same.

He moved into the gym section. It was rough and concrete, dark and cold, nothing like what they had in Tahiti, but it was something. The other half was partitioned as a workspace. Sam’s suit sat on the bench half-finished.

Clint scanned the room and spotted the target in the corner. His senses felt dull, fuzzy. He needed some sleep. He fought the urge to steal a blanket from one of the lockers and curl up on the mat.

He nocked an arrow and sighted in on the target. At the last second, he turned toward the door and released.

The arrow froze… A red tendril held it an inch from Wanda’s face. She raised a brow.

“Sleep on the mat?” He asked. “Really?”

She tossed the arrow back, and the fuzz retreated from his senses. He felt more awake.

“You weren’t sleeping upstairs.” She shrugged.

He laughed. “Looks like you weren’t either.” He nocked the arrow again. “You’re getting better.”

Wanda nodded. “Peter’s senses can pick up Scott and the comms. I’ve had a lot of practice cloaking, lately.”

“I bet... so you survived your first couple weeks at school. How was it?” He drew back and sighted the target.

“I’ve finished my reading assignment,” she said, “so Mrs. Lille finally believes I understand English.”

Clint let the bow relax without shooting. He turned to her.

She shrugged. “She means well.”

“You know if you need anything we’re here to help.”

She gave him a disbelieving look. “Yesterday Natasha told me to say Americans used smallpox as a weapon against Native Americans.”

Clint shrugged. “She’s only ever learned the Soviet version of US history.”

“Not exactly helpful in a US classroom.”

“Point taken…” He turned back to the target. “Has Lester made a move yet?”

Wanda’s eyes flared red. She leaned against the wall and crossed her arms. “Nothing yet. He just keeps following Peter around. It’s a little creepy, honestly… I think he’s waiting for evidence.”

“Then we make sure he doesn’t get any.” She hummed in agreement. “The study group still going well?”

“What is this twenty questions?”

“If it is, I’ll need to come up with a few more.” He saw her roll her eyes and smirked.

“It’s… actually fun. Peter’s too smart for his own good, miles ahead of the rest of us, but a surprisingly good teacher. MJ’s helping me with math. For some reason I can’t seem to focus in that class.” They exchanged a wry smile. “Ned is… Ned. He’s actually helping me catch up on some gaps in my pop culture references. Surprisingly, Hydra didn’t let us go out to the movies between experiments.”

Clint raised his brow. “Shocking.”

“Peter invited us all to his internship in a couple days. I thought Ned was going to lose it. They swore me and MJ to secrecy then refused to give us any details.”

He glanced over. “Where is it?”

She laughed. “What part of no details wasn’t clear?”

He hummed, then let his arrow fly. Bullseye.

“I see Tony’s replaced Secretary Ross.” She nodded toward the photo stuck to the target.

He shrugged. “New place, new picture. It seemed right.”

“Clint...” she scolded. He started toward the target to collect the arrow. “Tony’s still-”

“What?” Clint interrupted, not willing to hear Wanda, of all people, stick up for  _ Stark _ . “He’s what? He turned us in. He turned you in. What exactly is he Wanda?” He yanked the arrow out of Tony’s forehead. The man’s smirk mocked him under the hole.

“He’s still… a part of our team.”

Clint let out a dark laugh. “The team’s broken.” He stalked over to a new vantage point.

“Something broken can be fixed. Look at Sam’s suit.”

Clint’s jaw clenched. “He turned us in for not signing the Accords and let the kid go for doing the same thing,” he snapped. “He designed a way to… _ contain _ you, Wanda, and Parker walked free.”

She stared at him, her face a mask of calm consideration. It pissed him off. She should be as mad as him. She should be madder.

“He won.” She shrugged.

Clint stopped short. “What?”

“They won the fight, so they got a free pass.”

Clint’s mouth fell open. He shook his head in disbelief.

“You’re expecting something just and fair. You’re too used to being on the winning side,” she scolded. “Winners make the rules. Losers deal with the consequences. This is what it is to lose.” She sent him a sad smile. “I may not have gone to school in Sokovia, but I learned that much.”

“No.” He dug his heels in. “Tony doesn’t care. There’s no team if you can’t trust the guy next to you to have your back.”

Something flashed across Wanda’s face, something desperate and hurting. It was gone so fast he thought he imagined it.

“Ok,” she said, pushing off the wall. She moved toward the door hesitating at the exit. “It’s just… it wasn’t too long ago, I was the one no one trusted.” She met Clint’s eyes. “He’s afraid, Clint.”

Wanda slipped out before he could respond. He debated chasing her down. Then he realized he didn’t know what to say.

Clint spun and glared at the picture of Tony. He drew and shot. The arrow wiped the smirk off the photo’s face.

One thing was certain. If they ever crossed paths again, Tony would know what it was to lose.

**Tony**

Tony needed a win.

Ross was being a pain. He was still breathing down his neck about Vision, he called almost daily for updates on the containment device, – Tony had Friday block his number after the second day – and now he was starting to sniff around about Spiderman. Tony paled at the thought of Ross getting his hands on the kid.

The grid he was working on sparked under his fingers. He yelped.

“You alright?”

Tony jumped.

“Rhodey.” He took a breath to calm his nerves. “Aren’t you supposed to be bedridden somewhere?” Tony spun his stool to face the door.

“Maybe if I didn’t have such great friends.” He was standing halfway in the lab, the skeleton Tony built holding his legs steady.

“Aw, careful, you might get this thing beating again.” He tapped his chest. The shrapnel may be gone, but jury was still out on whether or not he had a heart.

“Oh, no, no.” Rhodey waved a hand. “I meant Pepper.”

“Ouch, buddy.” Tony spun back to the grid. He tapped a piece with a screwdriver. It sparked.  _ There you are _ . He rerouted the circuits in his head.

“Tony...”

“Nope.”

“Excuse me?”

“I know that tone,” he said, reaching for the wire he needed. “That’s your ‘Tony there’s a mess that needs cleaning’ tone. Rhodey, if I told you once I’ve told you a million times, I’m not a maid.” He ripped the wire out. Another section sparked.  _ Shit. _ “I don’t have the legs for it.”

“It’s the kid.”

Tony spun back around. “The kid?” He blinked. “You mean the kid that promised to stay in his nice and safe apartment with his overly attractive aunt? That kid?” Why did all the teenagers in his life decide to ignore him?

“Happy just called. Apparently, there was some kind of incident at a bank.”

“Of course, there was.” He tapped his fingers once, twice, three times. His eye caught the metal collar sitting on the desk. “Friday get my suit ready.”  _ Pepper’s going to kill me. _

“Yes, sir.”

When he got there, Peter was already gone. Ross wasn’t.

“Tony,” he called a greeting. The guards turned their guns on him.

“Secretary… looks like you finally caught some criminals.” He said nodding toward the bank robbers hanging from the light poles. “Congrats.”

Ross glared. “There’s another one around here somewhere. You weren’t thinking about breaking the Accords and helping him... were you?”

“No, no.” Tony waved a hand. “It’s a nice night. Thought it would be fun to fly around a bit. You know us billionaire playboys. Boredom’s a mortal enemy.”

“Uh huh, you know I’ve been trying to get ahold of you.”

“What?” Tony flew higher. “What was that? Sorry, you’re breaking up. Bug in the mic. Clogged speakers.” He hit the thrusters and blasted away.

“Come on, kid.” He scanned the city. “Where are you?”

**Clint**

“Incoming,” Sam buzzed through the comms. Clint spotted the red and blue blur swing down the adjacent street as Sam circled above out of sight.

“How was the bank, birdman?” He asked taking out one of the military goons lining up a shot on Parker. The woman collapsed, stunned. Natasha melted out of the shadows and picked up the arrow.

“Man...” Sam complained, cutting up then swooping into a dive before releasing Red Wing. “You know it’s Falcon.” The drone zoomed silently behind Parker and intercepted a shot meant to cut his web. Cap bashed the shooter in the back of the head and sprinted down the next alley to keep up. “The kid’s a bit clumsy, but did the job.”

“Aw, Sam, are you still sour about Leipzig?” Clint let two arrows fly. Two goons fell. Man, it was nice to be back in action. “Nat, you’re going to want to take the next left. It looks like he’s heading for the school,” Clint said as Parker swung around a corner.

“Cap, you have about a dozen waiting two streets over. Wanna thin them out?” Sam asked as Red Wing intercepted five more shots. “And I’m  _ not _ still sour. I’m over it.”

“Sure you are,” Nat said slinking down the next road and out of sight. Clint was losing his vantage point.

“Completely over it,” Cap grunted as one of the goons got in a lucky shot. Clint watched him flip a trashcan lid into his hand and bash the guy into a wall before packing up and jumping to the next rooftop.

“Uh, guys?”

“Come on, Sam, you know they’re right,” Clint said snuggling down into a new perch.

“No, guys, we’re about to have company.”

“Well, yeah… what do you think we’ve been doing for the last ten minutes?” Scott asked.

“Holding on for dear life under a lapel?” Sam deadpanned.

“… maybe… but Cap’s been kicking ass.”

Clint rolled his eyes and let another arrow fly. A goon who popped onto a nearby roof fell into the alley for Cap to clean up.

“No, I mean Tony.”

“Tony?” Cap asked.

“Yeah, in the suit.”

Clint spotted the trail from the thrusters.  _ Shit. _

“Did he see you?” Cap asked, pausing to look up.

“No… but I’m grounded, now.”

“What is he doing? He’s going to get himself arrested,” Cap grumbled. “Barton… get Sam back in the air.”

A smile spread across Clint’s face. “My pleasure.” He shot a salute Cap couldn’t see and took aim. “Nighty night, Tony.” He let the arrow fly. Bullseye.

Electricity wrapped the suit. The thrusters sputtered… then died. Stark fell hard onto the closest roof. Clint hoped he bruised something. He watched Tony struggle to his feet and tap the arc reactor. Nothing happened. Clint waited a few more seconds before turning back to the fight.

“Suit’s out of commission.”

“Nice shot,” Sam complimented before taking off.

“Thank...” Clint spotted a cluster of goons waiting for Parker down an alley. There were too many. They took aim… and fired. “you.” Red Wing intercepted five shots. The rest slipped through and shredded the kid's web. He went flying. “Parker’s down.”

“What?” Wanda’s voice bled through the comms, worried.

“On it,” Nat appeared behind the cluster and stole their attention. Parker took out three before limping down an alley. Clint took out another that tried to sneak up behind his back before another web shot from his wrist. The kid took off.

“He’s up...” Parker was almost to the school, but there were too many between him and his target. They would follow and see him go in. A stray thought flashed through Clint’s head. The kid wasn’t paying too much attention to where his webs were landing… Clint’s lips curled into a smile.

“Hey Sam, I don’t suppose you would be up for helping the kid get a little more height?” he asked. “After all, you’re over it, right?”

“What?” Sam groaned when he caught on. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Or we could let them follow him. What’s the worst that could happen?”

…

…

…

“Fine… Kid, you better not wreck my suit again.”

Sam dove into the line of Parker’s next shot. The webbing hit one of his wings, and Sam swooped up dragging the kid with him. He catapulted Parker over the goon’s last line of defense.

The kid’s arms and legs pinwheeled as he tried to understand what happened. By the time he dropped low enough, he was able to shoot another web and swung the last couple of blocks. He landed and looked up, head darting back and forth.

“Come on, kid,” Clint muttered. “Go inside.” As if he could hear, Parker turned and went into the school. “He’s in.”

Sam swooped in the air and came in for a landing behind Clint. “Told you… Over it.”

Clint smirked back.

“Think that was enough time to change?” Nat asked.

“It was long enough. The Watchdogs made their move. I want someone on him at all times tonight,” Cap ordered. “Wanda, you’re up.”

**Peter**

That was crazy! What had his web hit to make him swing that high? He needed to find out so he could try it again… and what was with the shady military guys? Maybe Ned would have an idea. He was going to flip when he heard. Peter glanced at the clock.  _ Oh crap, Aunt May was going to kill him. _

“Hey, Peter.”

Peter’s head snapped up. He hadn’t heard her come in. How didn’t he hear her come in?

“H-hi Ana.” He cleared his throat and snuck a peek at his backpack. His suit wasn’t showing. He let out a breath. “Wha- er-” he crossed his arms – “What are you doing here?” He tried to lean casually against his locker and slipped. Popping back up, he tried again.

_ Smooth. _

“I forgot something,” she said putting the combination into her lock. It popped open. She hadn’t stopped studying him, and it made his brain fuzz. “Are you ok?”

His ribs hurt from a lucky shot one of the robbers got in, and his knees were skinned from the military types that chased him back to the school… He was pretty sure he lost them… yeah, he totally lost them.

“Of course.” He smiled, trying not to grimace as his ribs complained. It must have convinced her because she smiled back. Ana closed her locker and hugged a book to her chest.

“Study group’s at your place tomorrow, right?”

He nodded, suppressing a very manly groan as another spike of pain hit his side. “Mmhm.”

She cocked her head to the side. “I’m actually heading that way on my way home. Want to catch the bus together?”

He hesitated.

“I wouldn’t ask, only… I heard there was a robbery not too far away, and well...”

Peter rocked onto his feet and breathed through the pain. “No, you’re right. We should definitely buddy up.”

He was pretty sure he got all the robbers, but there was always a chance one got away. If something happened, he would never forgive himself. He motioned her ahead.

“Lead the way.” If she walked ahead, he could hide his limp.

They walked outside and down to the closest bus stop. The hair on the back of Peter’s neck stood up. He scanned the area and spotted a military-type scouring a nearby alley. Peter shrunk back as the man turned and started for the bus stop. Ana conveniently took a step into his line of sight to study the bus schedule. The man changed course, heading for the subway instead, and Peter let out a breath.

“Looks like we only have a couple more minutes,” she said turning to smile at him. Her eyes crinkled.

“Good.” He returned it. “Aunt May is probably worried sick.”

“You’re lucky to have her.”

Peter laughed. “You have no idea.” He noticed her eyes fall despite the smile still plastered across her face.

Not for the first time, he wondered who she stayed with. Somehow their study group always managed to skip her place. He hoped she didn’t think they were trying to exclude her.

The bus pulled up, and they boarded. He followed her to the back. She chose seats near the emergency exit, and he let out a relieved breath. They had a standoff for the aisle seat before she gave in slid over to the window. The military man had him nervous, and if anyone boarded who shouldn’t, he wanted them to meet him first. He collapsed into the seat next to her and suppressed a groan. He thought he saw her lips moving from the corner of his eye, but that couldn’t be right. If she said anything, he, of all people, would hear.

Ana was a mystery. She was kind of old for their grade, but he supposed that was to be expected when a person’s school was disintegrated along with their city. She was smart and funny and had some really weird gaps in her education that MJ found fascinating. He liked Ned’s idea to host a movie marathon to help her with the essentials.

The bus screeched to a stop.

He and Ana exchanged concerned looks.

“We aren’t at the next stop yet are we?” She asked.

He shook his head.

The door opened, and their heads snapped in its direction.

Mr. Lester walked on.

…

…

…

_ What? _

Their math teacher walked down the aisle until he stood by Peter. He stared down at them.

“I need to see your backpack, Mr. Parker.”

_ What? _

“Mr. Lester?” Peter looked back at Ana. She looked just as confused. “I-”

“Why?” Ana asked behind him.

“Ms. Belova, this doesn’t concern you. Mr. Parker, your bag, please.”

His heart pounded in his chest. He couldn’t hand over his bag. His suit was in it. He opened his mouth to say… something.

“Peter doesn’t have his bag,” Ana said. Peter looked back surprised. Her honest eyes stared up at Mr. Lester. Their teacher looked between her and the bag at his feet. “We heard there was some trouble at the bank, so we decided buddy up for the ride home. He offered to carry my bag for me.”

Before he could do anything, she grabbed the bag, unzipped it, and shoved her book inside. Peter froze. No way she didn’t see his suit. She zipped it closed without pausing.

He waited for the shock to cross her face, the flash of realization… nothing.

_ Who was this girl? _

Mr. Lester looked between them. His face twisted in anger. A second ticked by. Then another. Mr. Lester forced out a breath, his lip curling in disgust. Peter had never had anyone look at him like that, like he was a bug or something that deserved to be squashed.

“I’ll see you both in class tomorrow,” Mr. Lester spat before turning on his heel and leaving the bus.

Peter let out a relieved breath before turning and seeing his bag in Ana’s lap. His heart thudded in his chest as she took out her book. He swallowed, and waited for her to gasp, for her to as  _ the  _ question. It never came.

She handed his bag over. His brain fuzzed. Suddenly, it didn’t seem as important that she saw inside. There was no way she saw his suit. Mr. Lester was weird, and he should probably avoid him when possible. Other than that, everything was fine.

Peter leaned back and bit back a groan.

Everything was fine except for his ribs.


	8. Chapter 8

**Vision**

Tony stormed into the room and tossed the arrow onto his workbench.

“Mr. Stark, are you all right?” Vis asked phasing through the wall. Tony glared at him.

“Hawkeye’s in town.” He nodded his head toward the arrow.

Vis’s circuits surged. He didn’t know if he was excited or anxious… maybe both.

“Wanda?”

Mr. Stark’s glare softened. “I didn’t see her.” Vis nodded. Tony’s eyes hardened again. “Hawk shot me,” he whined. “I was trying to help the kid, and he shot me.”

“You were trying to help someone who didn’t sign the Accords?” Vision asked. “An action that surely would have seen you arrested… and he shot you?”

Mr. Stark blinked. “You don’t think...”

“I do.”

Mr. Stark turned to the almost working grid on his workspace. He pulled out a couple wires and rerouted them.

“I should probably get the space ready for the group tomorrow.”

“Probably.”

“Will you be around? I hear the best friend is a huge fan.”

Vis watched him twist two wires together. “I will come and say hello.”

“Good.”

…

…

…

“He still shot me.”

**Wanda**

“Shot through the heart, and you’re to blame. Darlin’ you give loooove a bad name (bad name),” Scott sang in her ear.

“Skip,” Wanda muttered as Lester turned to the board to write out their homework.

“What? No Bon Jovi, today? Ok, ok, I got this.” He jumped up and down in the crook of her sleeve and cracked his neck. “I put my hands up, they’re playin’ my song, the butterflies fly awaaay. Movin’ my hips like yeah. Noddin’ my head like yeah.”

Wanda coughed through a laugh. Lester turned around and glared before returning to the board. The team always tried to keep her distracted during his class. She had to admit. It worked.

“Jeez Scott, you’re almost worse than Clint,” Natasha crackled over the comms.

“Nope, not possible,” Sam said. “I’ll take Miley any day if it keeps Clint away from the stereo.”

“You have no appreciation for a classic, but I accept the support.” Scott lifted a hand. “Long distance fist bump.”

“No.”

“But-”

“I’m not fist bumping to Miley Cyrus.”

“But I thanked Red Wing.”

“… Fine.”

“Did he do it? Someone has to prove it. Oooh, you could snap a pic.”

“Oh, come on,” Sam complained.

“Nope, pic or it didn’t happen.”

The bell rang. Wanda let out a relieved breath and packed up her books as Scott scrambled back up to his place under her lapel. MJ was waiting for her by the door by the time she stood up.

“Oh, Ms. Belova,” Lester called. She froze. MJ’s brow furrowed in worry making Wanda think she didn’t completely keep the flash of fear from crossing her face. “Could you hold back a sec?” He turned to MJ in the doorway. “She won’t be long, promise.”

Wanda’s heart pounded in her chest. She didn’t want to be alone with him. The last time it happened, he was in an interrogation room adding to her collection of bruises and burns. Only Scott’s weight under her lapel kept her calm enough to control the red energy pulsing through her core. MJ tossed her one last look. Wanda forced her face to relax. It must have worked because MJ turned and left.

Lester stared at her. “I see you have a new bag.” His eyes flicked to the backpack slung over her shoulder. Wanda forced herself not to hug it tighter.

“The other was a spare.” She shrugged. “I didn’t realize American teachers were so interested in our accessories.”

Lester’s eyes narrowed. “That’s right… you’re Sokovian, yes? You know...” He rounded the desk, and Wanda was suddenly aware there weren’t any barriers between them. He leaned back to rest against it. “I knew someone from Sokovia once. Her accent was very similar… almost identical.” Sweat gathered on Wanda’s palms. She ignored the urge to wipe them on her jacket.

“Are you made?” Cap crackled through the comms. “Wanda, say the safe word, and we’ll be there.”

“No, she’s fine,” Natasha said. “He’s just fishing.”

“I don’t suppose you knew her,” Lester continued from his place against the desk. His eyes bore into hers. “Wanda Maximoff.”

“I’m moving into position,” Cap said. “Sam?”

“I’m ready, just tell us when, Wanda.”

“Sokovia is a big country,” she said instead, not breaking Lester’s stare.

The substitute hummed. “So it is… Surely, you’ve seen her on the news though. Dangerous, deranged, she blew up a building in Lagos and killed more than a dozen people. A monster really.”

Wanda quirked a brow, focusing on not letting the guilt fill her eyes.

“What an ass,” Scott grumbled from under her lapel.

“I’m sorry Mr. Lester, did you need something for class?”

He stared at her. His fingers tapped the top of the desk once, twice.

“Your last pop quiz was sub-par. You’ll need to complete all of the problems on page 573 instead of every other.” Wanda’s mouth dropped.  _ What a petty son of a-  _ Thanks to MJ she got a B on the last quiz. He pushed off the desk and walked back to the board. “Due tomorrow.”

Wanda turned and did  _ not _ storm out of the room.

“What happened?” MJ asked as soon as she was out. Wanda couldn’t stop the glare before she saw it. “That bad, huh?”

“I can’t wait to meet our real teacher. Any chance he’ll be returning soon?” Wanda asked, knowing it would never happen.

“Ned heard next week.”

Wanda looked at her.

“Yeah, I didn’t believe it either.” MJ stopped at her locker and threw her books in before pushing it closed. “Peter and Ned went ahead. They’re waiting by the car.”

“The car?” Wanda looked up surprised.

“Yeah, apparently the internship has some pretty major backing. Probably some arms dealer with blood money.” MJ shrugged. “They sent a car.”

“Well… we better not keep them waiting.”

When MJ said car, she meant limo, and when she meant limo, she meant a limo with all the trappings, tinted windows, a driver, the works. Wanda stared. She hadn’t seen anything as extravagant since Tony took her to see Stark Tower. Her heart ached and she buried the memory.

They piled in. Wanda caught MJ sneaking peeks at Peter and decided to slide in next to Ned to help her out. Peter and MJ ended up next to each other on the back seat. Clint was right. It was nice when a plan came together.

Wanda settled back to enjoy the ride.

“So how far is it anyway?” Ned asked.

“You mean you don’t know either?” MJ asked, still sore the boys were holding out on them.

Ned shrugged. “Some details are better left for later… like the boring ones.”

“Not far,” Peter said. “The compound’s just outside the city.”

That didn’t sound too bad.

_ Wait… Compound? _

Wanda looked around with new eyes. Did all limos have back massagers and pull out foot spas? She didn’t know. She’d only ever been in one.

The partition started to lower. Wanda took a breath. It was fine. There were plenty of compounds. Surely, Peter didn’t mean the same one. She lived there for over a year, and she’d never seen him. Everything was fine.

“You kids ok? Wanna stop off for a burger or something on the way?” A voice drifted through the open partition.

_ Oh, shit. _

Peter looked around at them. “No, Happy, thanks. We’re fine.”

“Not fine,” Scott yelled through the comms. Peter’s brow furrowed, his head snapping in her direction. Through the panic, Wanda threw up a hasty cloak. “Not fine. Definitely,  _ not  _ fine.”

“What’s going on?” Cap asked.

“Code iron,” Scott yelled. “We have a code iron.”

~*~*~

The drive was enough to calm Wanda’s nerves. She was still jittery, but with some coaching from Cap and Natasha through the comms, she didn’t feel completely out of her depths. The compound came into sight and an irrational relief filled her. It felt safe. It felt like home. It felt like Vis.

She reached out without thinking, unable to fight the urge. A feeler brushed his mind and the reaction was immediate. He tugged at her, enveloping her in warmth and comfort. She sunk into him unwilling to let go.

The car stopped.

They climbed out, and he was there. She buried her tears, buried her joy. Her face was a mask. He looked on in surprise.

Would he turn her in?

_ No, never.  _ The thought brushed by her, seeking contact. She took a measured breath… and let him in.

“Mr. Parker,” Vis said in greeting, “we’re happy you and your friends could make it.”

Ned looked like he was going to hyperventilate. “You’re...” He looked back at Peter, and Peter grinned back. “You’re The Vision.” He stepped forward, took Vis’s hand, and started shaking it. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir. Do I call you, sir? What do you prefer? I’m flexible. I can say whatever. Oh, man-” he looked back at Peter –, “this is so cool.”

Vis looked confused, and Wanda couldn’t stop a laugh from falling out. MJ’s normally reserved mask was about to crack too, so it seemed like a normal reaction.

“Vision is fine,” he said, eyes lighting when he saw her smile. “Though my friends call me Vis.”

Warmth spread through Wanda’s chest.

“Hey, Vision,” Happy said, coming around the car. “I didn’t know you were joining us.”

“Mr. Stark asked that I make an appearance.” He looked down at Ned still shaking his hand. “It seems he thought I may be a welcome addition.”

“That was very nice of you, Vis,” Peter said, putting a hand on Ned’s shoulder. Ned reeled in his inner fanboy and jumped back a step. “Thank you.”

Vis bowed his head in acknowledgment. “Mr. Hogan, I can take them from here.”

“Sounds good to me. May asked me to grab some coffee.”

“Wait, what?” Peter’s head snapped in his direction.

“Catch you later, Parker.”

“But...” He looked back at them. MJ tried to hide a smirk. “Aunt May?”

“If you will all follow me?” Vis offered. “Perhaps it’s best we head inside.”

“Right,” Peter muttered, watching Happy’s back as he walked away. “Ok, yeah.”

MJ tugged his elbow, and he fell in line.

_ Are you ok? _ The question drifted through Wanda’s head. She sent a shot of warmth across the connection.

_ I am,  _ she projected _. The team has made sure of it. Are you? _

He felt her concern about Secretary Ross and sent her reassurances.

_ Mr. Stark won’t let them take me. _

She couldn’t stop the spark of anger at his name. It didn’t matter what she told Clint, what Tony did hurt, and it was harder to bury through their connection.

Vis hesitated. He caressed her mind.  _ He truly is very sorry. _

She simmered against him.  _ I’m not sure I care. _

At least, not then. She wasn’t ready to forgive him. Vis backed off, deciding not to push. She could feel his joy at seeing her, his disappointment at the realization she would have to leave. Even if she and Tony reconciled, she couldn’t stay. They would both be arrested and Secretary Ross would have free rein over Vis. She would never let that happen.

They walked into the lab. It took effort to keep her steps steady. She didn’t suck in a breath like she wanted. Tony sat at his workbench, something sparking as he soldered it into place. Light glinted off a metal ring lying next to him on the desk.

Her mind sizzled.

“Is that?” Scott asked from under her lapel, tone unusually soft. He couldn’t hide his disgust.

Peter’s ears perked. Wanda didn’t have the control to cloak. She was using everything she had not to let the power bursting through her core destroy the room. She could feel the energy gathering in her hands and hid them behind her back. Hopefully, it was enough to hide the glow. She ran a finger over the bracelet Natasha gave her.

_ Breathe.  _ Vis let his hand drift near hers. He squeezed her pinky in comfort, releasing before anyone could see. _ Remember what Sam taught you. _

Stark spun on his stool to face them. He clapped his hands, and Wanda forced herself not to jump. Vis’s presence at her back helped her grasp some control. She reeled her power in and felt the energy in her hands recede.

“Peter… and friends.” He took the time to study each of them. “Great timing.” He tapped a screwdriver on a piece of the grid on his desk. It sparked. “I thought you all might find my new project interesting… Plus, Peter promised free labor.” He shrugged. “Who am I to argue?” He looked back at them. “First things first, names?”

“Peter,” Peter said, raising his hand. Stark’s eyes lit. He shot him an indulgent smile. “-er, I mean...” Peter sent MJ a desperate look.

She smirked but didn’t make him wait. “Michelle Jones, but everyone who matters calls me MJ.”

Stark cocked a brow. “I’ll strive to live up to the honor.”

Natasha crackled through the comms, “Wanda, play up your accent. Make it thicker. He may not make the connection.”

_ Right, her voice… _

“Ned Leeds, sir, Mr. Ironman, sir. Can I just say, it’s an honor. I’m a huge fan and-”

“Ned,” Peter whispered. He gave a small shake of his head and sent a quick, sheepish smile to Stark.

Stark turned to Wanda. She resisted the urge to swallow.  _ Here went nothing _ . “Ana Belova.” She laid it on thick, saying as little as possible. MJ sent her an odd look. The boys didn’t seem to notice.

Stark blinked. “Let me guess,” he pointed the screwdriver at her, “Sokovian.”

She smiled focusing to include her eyes. “Genius.”

“That I am.” He returned her smile. “A woman of few words. I respect that.” He spun back to the desk. She couldn’t keep her gaze from drifting to the collar.

Stark reached out and grabbed it. She felt something in her twist.

“This...” He said turning back to them and holding it up. Wanda felt Vis hovering behind her sending warmth and comfort through their connection. “Is an abomination.” Wanda’s mouth didn’t fall open, as she felt the disgust spike through him. She didn’t know what she expected, but that wasn’t it.

“It’s cheap, dirty, inelegant, and unnecessarily cruel. The man who designed it should be hung and quartered.”

Wanda worked to keep her face blank.

“Our over-reaction to the supposed enhanced individuals threat, no doubt,” MJ quipped.

Tony tossed the ring to the side not caring where it flew. “Got it in one.” The collar clattered against the floor.

He turned back to the grid sitting on the desk. “Your goal, ladies and gentlemen, is to improve it.”

“Improve it?” The words were out before Wanda could process she said them. It felt like whiplash. Her stomach turned. She felt like she was going to be sick.

“Yep.” Stark didn’t turn around. She used his distraction to glare daggers at the back of his head. She didn’t care how many laps Natasha added onto her next training session. “You’re going to create something that suppresses an enhanced individual’s abilities…  _ without _ injuring them.”

Wanda’s glare softened… a little.

“Unlike the other design.” MJ raised a brow.

Tony breathed out a laugh. “Yeah, kid, unlike the other design,” he muttered. He spun back to them, and Wanda hid her anger under a blank mask. “This is your blueprint.” He pointed the screwdriver back at the grid. “It has the basics, but some serious-,” he touched the tip to one of the metal clusters. It sparked – “electrical engineering issues.” Stark tossed the screwdriver to Peter. He caught it without looking already absorbed in the design. “Nothing you can’t handle, I’m sure.”

“Mmhm,” Peter hummed, dropping his bag on an empty chair, and moving closer to the prototype.

“Right,” Stark watched him with a knowing stare. He shook his head and turned to the rest of them. “You lot, I let Peter bring you with conditions.”

“Conditions?” MJ crossed her arms.

“Yep, only one, super easy, if anyone asks, you tell them exactly what Peter is working on here. Some sketchy government types might approach you about his internship. If they do, your condition for being here is to tell them the truth. Capeesh?” He walked to the door. “Good talk. Looking forward to working with you.” He turned before leaving. “Good luck.”

“Sketchy government types?” MJ asked the room. She turned to Peter. “Your life is so weird.”

He flicked a glance up from the grid. “You have no idea.”

**Peter**

The afternoon progressed like most of their study sessions. Peter doled out tasks and obsessed over the design and circuitry. MJ sat in the corner working through some calculations he needed. Ned and Ana grabbed the computer and announced they were on research duty. Peter suspected Ned was looking up more movie trivia than engineering solutions, but that was ok. He and Ana seemed to be having fun, and they always found the answer when he asked a question.

Vis kept coming in and out, too, which was pretty awesome. That’s right. He was on nickname basis with an Avenger. His superhero career was really looking up.

Peter erased a section of the drawing he was working on and redid the circuits. He motioned for the design to transfer to the holo-table. That should work. He zoomed into a tricky section and examined it. Yeah, it should definitely work.

Now, all he needed was-

MJ tossed the notebook she was working on down in front of him.

Yes! The calculations. He could kiss her. Wait. No. What? He meant… uh.

He felt his cheeks flush.

“Thanks,” he said.

She smirked. Her eyes drifted around the room. She leaned against the desk.

“I’m thinking about going on a snack run. Stark mentioned the possibility of popcorn… Anyone interested?”

“I’m good,” he said, excited he had everything to try his new idea.

“I’m in,” Ned jumped at the chance. “Ana?”

“I’m ok, thank you, though.”

“Suit yourself.”

They left, Ned going on about the latest trailer he saw for a new Star Wars movie. Peter turned to the grid and started rerouting power and circuits to match the new design.

“She wanted you to go with her.”

“What?” Peter looked up in surprise. Ana was studying him a playful glint in her eye. “Who MJ? Nah, she was just… going for a snack.”

“Mmhm.” Ana didn’t seem convinced.

“Really...”

“Ok.” She shrugged, turning back to the computer. They worked in silence for a couple minutes.

“You think?” He couldn’t keep the hopeful edge out of his voice.

Ana smiled, her eyes crinkling. “Yeah, Peter. I think she likes spending time with you.”

He couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across his face as he turned back to the grid. He twisted a couple wires together and plugged a new sensor chip into the board. It should be enough to withstand a basic test run. Done.

“Want to try it out?” He asked motioning toward the grid.

She raised a brow. “How?”

_ Oh, right.  _ As far as she knew, there weren’t any enhanced individuals to test it on.

“Well, we could turn it on and see if it doesn’t explode at least.” She didn’t need to know if he confirmed the results.

Ana breathed out a laugh. “Sounds promising.” He shot her the grin that always made Aunt May bring out the fire extinguisher. She laughed harder. “You know my brother used to smile like that. Nothing good ever followed.”

_ She has a brother?  _ He tucked the knowledge away to examine later.

“Then we better live up to his legacy.” Peter caught the crinkles around her eyes fall despite her smile as he turned to the grid. “Now, for the collar design, the sensor essentially malfunctioned when it read a calibrated psionic energy, delivering a shock to the subject when detected.” He swallowed and stretched his neck. He couldn’t imagine if it were calibrated for him. It felt like his skin buzzed with radioactive energy constantly. It was what gave him his crazy accurate senses, and he didn’t know how to turn it off. Peter shot a wary look at the metal circle lying unassuming on the floor where Mr. Stark threw it.

He shook himself. “Our design,” he continued, “should detect all foreign energy, not just psionic, and disperse it as it’s released, rendering any subjects within a ten foot radius incapable of using inhuman capabilities. Ready?” Peter looked up. Ana looked nervous. She nodded.

He grinned, then flipped the switch.

_ Pain _ .

It thrashed through him, burning every cell in his body, clawing scratching, sizzling with nowhere to go. He felt his body collapse. A scream stuck in his throat as he lost control of his muscles.

The air fizzed. Something exploded. Suddenly, a red mist was cradling him, shielding him. Peter coughed. His head lulled to the side.

“Ow,” he groaned.

The grid sat smoking on the desk. He really did blow it up. Mr. Stark was going to kill him.

_ Ana _ . His eyes grew with worry. They darted around the room, trying to find her. She stood in a defensive stance in the middle of the room glaring at the grid. Red tendrils snaked from her hands making her hair float as her eyes glowed with the same energy.

_ No, not red… Scarlet… Like Scarlet Witch… Ana was Scarlet Witch? But he fought her. Ana didn’t look anything like her... and didn’t Mr. Stark say her name was Wanda? What was- _

“I couldn’t exactly attend school as myself,” she said, voice strained. Her face shimmered showing the features he remembered before shimmering back.

_ Oh, right. The whole criminal thing. _

She flinched.

_ And she could read thoughts… Good job, Peter. _

“Sorry,” he said, dragging himself up to sit against the desk.

A smile ghosted across her lips as she straightened. “Occupational hazard.” She shrugged, staggering a couple steps to collapse into a chair. “Are you ok?”

He laughed under his breath. “Yeah, you?”

She didn’t answer. He glanced over. She looked pale as she fiddled with a bracelet around her wrist. “Ana- uh- Wanda?”

She blinked. Her eyes flicked to his. “Fine.”

Vis phased through the wall, searching the room frantically. He flew to An- Wanda’s side. She relaxed into his arms. “I wiped the videos,” Peter heard him whisper. “The only thing left is...” They both looked over to him.

Peter’s eyes widened. She couldn’t just read thoughts. She could change them. He held up his hands.

“It’s ok Peter,” she said getting up and taking a step closer.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, come on, you don’t have to do that. I know how to keep a secret,” he pleaded. “I won’t tell anyone, promise.”

She hesitated, looking back at Vis.

“It’s up to you,” he said.

A-Wanda turned back to Peter. “It’s dangerous if you remember,” she warned.

“You’ve looked in my head… I’m used to danger.”

She stared at him with a blank face. It was eerie. She nodded, and he let out a breath. Vis gave her another squeeze on her shoulder before he turned and phased through a wall.

Peter couldn’t believe it. He’d been hanging out with Scarlet Witch. Him, hanging out with an Avenger. That had to be a step in the right direction. They even buddied up after the bank robbery… His brow furrowed, eyes drifting to his book bag. Wait.

“Have you wiped my memory before?” He asked.

Wanda shifted on her feet, eyes darting away. “I saw your suit,” she admitted, “and you saw. I made you not worry about it, but that was it.”

Peter nodded. It made sense. It was still creepy. Something fuzzed in his brain, and he remembered.

“Whoa, that’s weird.” He studied her and realized he didn’t actually know her very well. “You’re not going to like… burn me at the stake or something?”

She looked at him like he was crazy.

“I just mean because the book Mrs. Lille assigned made it seem like...”

“That wasn’t how it… Did you actually do the reading?” She asked, exasperated.

Peter looked down and scuffed his toe against the floor. “I may have skimmed the Sparknotes.” He looked up and she was smiling. He returned it. “I had a lot going on that week.”

She laughed. “Uh huh.” She turned her attention to the smoking prototype. “So… what are we going to do about that? It seems pretty broken.”

He shrugged. “Come back tomorrow and fix it?”

She shot him a smile. Her eyes crinkled. “Sounds like a plan.”

MJ and Ned walked in and froze staring at the disaster on the desk.

“So… what did we miss?”


	9. Chapter 9

**Wanda**

The next day it was just Wanda and Peter in the limo with Happy. Ned begged off for some video game thing Wanda didn’t understand, – something about a raid? She gave a mental shrug – and MJ had Decathlon practice. She’d admit she was excited. Wanda would take as many stolen moments with Vis as she could get, and chances of the Watchdogs going for Peter on the compound were slim to none.

“I can’t believe you’re going to hang out with Stark again,” Clint grumbled in her ear. She was still cloaking around Peter. Knowing about her alone would land him in enough hot water to boil an ocean. She didn’t intend to put him in any more danger than he already was.

Wanda waited for Peter to look out the window. “I’m not. I’m hanging out with Vis.”

“Wanda, it’s dangerous. It’s dangerous, and he’s making you build that _thing_. You barely got any sleep last night between nightmares.”

“Half the nightmares were from things I saw inside the other prisoners’ heads,” she said. Peter looked over and smiled. She returned it and waited for him to turn back to the window. “That _thing_ is needed.”

She’d had a lot of time to think about it while she tossed and turned trying not to wake up the others. From the number of times she’d heard Scott yawn since entering the limo, she wasn’t successful.

“Cap, help me out on this.”

“I think Wanda has a good point.”

“That was _not_ helpful. Nat?”

“I’m all for a humane containment device.”

Wanda smirked. She had a suspicion Natasha was less interested in the technology and more interested in winning the pool they set up predicting when her and Vis would finally go on a date. For people who depended on her mind reading skills so much, they tended to forget about it a lot.

“Come on,” Clint groaned. “Sam?”

…

“Sam, you there?

…

“Same, come in.”

…

“ _Cause the players gonna play, play, play, play, play. And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate-”_ the stereo cut off in the background- “Yeah… yeah I’m here… what was the question?”

No one spoke.

“Was that…” Scott choked on a laugh, breaking the silence. “Tay Swift?”

“No.” Sam answered too quickly. Wanda fought a smile.

“Is Sam… a Swiftie?” Scott continued.

“What? No, why would...” Sam cut himself off. He paused. “It’s catchy,” he mumbled.

“And you guys think I’m bad,” Clint laughed.

“You’re worse,” Nat said immediately.

“Way worse,” Cap agreed.

“You’ve lost all stereo privileges… forever,” Scott added.

“We’re off topic,” Clint grumbled. “You’re all supposed to be helping me talk Wanda out of returning to the compound. Come on, kid, Stark’s upped the security protocols. If anything happens, no way we’re getting in there to help.”

“Too late.” Wanda let a smile cross her face as she felt Vis’s presence brush her mind. “We’re here.”

~*~*~

“So why have you been following me around anyway?” Peter asked out of nowhere. Wanda looked up from the computer screen. She was going cross-eyed from reading so much about energy sensors. Who knew there were so many considerations? Scott was helping a lot.

Wanda blinked, finally registering the question. She really needed some sleep.

“There’s a group after you. W- er- _I’m_ trying to misdirect them.”

“Why?”

Wanda’s brow furrowed. “Why am I trying to misdirect them?”

“Why are they after me?” He looked young and innocent, and she couldn’t help but wonder the same thing. She was too tired for this discussion.

“Your abilities. They don’t like that you have something they don’t. It scares them.”

“But… I help people.” He stared at her with earnest eyes. They reminded her of a younger Steve.

She couldn’t stop her gaze from drifting toward the collar lying forgotten on the floor. “They’re afraid one day you won’t.”

Peter followed her stare. “You’ve run into them before,” he said. The kid was too observant for his own good. “They created the collar design.”

Wanda scoffed. She should tell him… tell him his precious Mr. Stark designed it then handed her over to the people who had it. He should know exactly who he worked for.

She looked up to tell him, the accusation on the tip of her tongue, and stopped. Peter didn’t deserve her anger… and neither did Tony… not really. She squeezed her eyes shut, not caring if her real feelings showed for once. The Watchdogs were to blame… The sadistic guards who enjoyed having power over other people were to blame.

_But he made it specifically for her… He calibrated it for her power._

Tony was scared. She fought him and scared him, and he reacted. He regretted it. He’d said as much. Vis said as much.

_It didn’t make it hurt any less._

No, it didn’t.

She forced her eyes open and looked at Peter. “No, they didn’t create it… but they use it.”

His eyes dropped back down to the grid. He nodded.

They both drifted back to their work.

“I’m sorry.”

It was the apology she wanted… she needed… from the wrong person.

“It’s not your fault.”

The silence grew awkward.

“So...” Peter cleared his throat. “I was thinking, what if we rerouted the sensor through a custom capacitor?”

“Custom capacitor?” Scott asked from his place under Wanda’s lapel.

“Custom capacitor?” She repeated so Peter could hear.

“Yeah, we could increase the capacity and adjust the di-”

“-scharge,” Scott finished with him. “Great idea kid. Just up the number of resistors on the mainboard and boom! Well, not boom… the opposite of boom.”

“And add a few more resistors to the mainboard?” Wanda relayed Scott’s instructions.

“Exactly.” Peter looked up excited. “It should only take a few minutes to machine the new piece. Just let me...” He turned to the holo-table and was immediately distracted by the new task.

Peter was right. It only took a few minutes, then a couple more to plug in the new pieces. It seemed too easy after the amount of research and attempts they put into it.

His hand hovered over the switch. “Ready?” He shifted on his feet, no doubt remembering the shock from the day before.

Wanda’s hand drifted up without her noticing and scratched her neck. “Ready.”

He flipped it.

_Silence._

For the first time since Hydra, Wanda was alone in her own head. It was… weird.

“Whoa,” Peter breathed out. His eyes widened darting around the room. He blinked. “This is...”

“Unsettling?”

“Very.”

“Turn it off?”

“Way ahead of you.” He flipped the switch. Thoughts, feelings, the general white noise of a large building full of people flooded back into her mind. They both let out a relieved breath.

“Remind me to never break the law,” Peter said.

She looked at him. “You mean like not signing the Accords and still capturing a group of bank robbers?”

“Er… right.”

She felt _him_ seconds before he reached the door. The compound buzzed with too many people, shielding him before it was too late. Maybe if she’d spent any amount of time reading him before, she would have picked him out of the crowd sooner, would have identified the barely suppressed glee radiating off his mind.

Wanda scanned the room, searching, searching… her heart jumped in her throat.

“Peter...” Her eyes darted to his. “Where’s your bag?”

His brow furrowed. “What? Oh, I left it at...”

The door opened. His eyes widened in realization. Wanda felt the group walk in behind her. She balked at having them at her back, but had the irrational fear they would recognize her if she turned around.

“Hello, Mr. Parker.” Secretary Ross’s voice rang through the room.

Peter swallowed. “School.”

**Tony**

Tony tightened the last screw on his new gauntlet. He slipped it on and squeezed it into a fist. Perfect.

Strictly speaking, he wasn’t breaking Pepper’s conditions.

She said he had to give up unsanctioned Ironman escapades. That didn’t mean he couldn’t use the suit. It was more like a car or a motorcycle… a jet. She didn’t make him give up his jet.

Strictly speaking, what Pepper didn’t know wouldn't hurt her.

Vision phased through the wall. Tony raised the gauntlet on instinct. It charged ready to fire.

He let out a breath and let it drop. “For someone who’s on the side of life, you sure have a death wish.”

Vision blinked. Stark could almost see him process the comment. “It seems Secretary Ross has decided to pay young Mr. Parker a visit.” It seemed he was going to ignore it, then.

_Wait. What?_

“Ross?” He asked, standing from the stool. He took a step forward and pointed down at the floor of _his_ compound. “Is here?”

“Yes, he just entered the lab with Mr. Parker.”

Tony stalked out of the room, punching the button on his wrist. The gauntlet retracted into the bracelet. It was taking too long to get to the lab. Why did he build his workshop so far away?

He stormed into the room.

“Ross,” Tony said disrupting the weird silence he walked in on.

The kid was standing by the grid, probably in the middle of some design adjustment when Ross and company walked in. His friend stood off to the side, the quiet one with the annoyingly familiar accent. He swore if he closed his eyes it was like Maximoff was back.

Maybe that’s why Vision had been hanging around so much. Tony decided once Ross was off his back, he was going to get the guy out. He needed some time away from the compound.

“Tony,” Ross greeted. Tony’s eyes narrowed. The man was entirely too happy with himself. “I’m happy you’re here. It seems your intern’s been moonlighting.”

“Oh?” Tony moved farther into the room stopping halfway between Ross and Peter. The Secretary’s men spread out sensing trouble.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter asked. He sounded nervous.

“It’s ok, kid.” Tony glared at Ross. “You don’t have any proof...” He trailed off as Ross’s smile grew.

Tony’s stomach dropped.

Ross held out his hand. A guard Tony recognized from the Raft stepped forward and handed the Secretary a bag. He unzipped it… and pulled out Peter’s suit.

Tony looked back at the kid.

_Really? In your backpack?_

Tony glanced down at the bracelet on his wrist. Maybe it was time to start looking for a more incognito suit for the kid.

“It’s mine,” an accented voice cut through the room. Everyone turned to stare at Peter’s friend.

Ross raised a brow. “Yours?”

_No, no, no, come on kid, I have enough people to worry about._

“Yes, I…” the girl blushed. “I’m a huge fan, and...” she scuffed a foot on the floor. “I made a replica. I didn’t think there would be any harm in it.”

_Oooh, she’s good._

“It was in Mr. Parker’s locker.”

She shrugged. “I didn’t feel like putting my combination in, and he offered to store it for me.”

Ross exchanged a look with the guard. “I see.”

“You know…” The guard stepped forward. “It’s strange Ms. Belova.” He pulled out a tablet.

Ugh, not another tablet. Tony snuck a glance over to Vision. He was hovering unusually close to the girl. Good, at least someone was covering her if all this went pear shaped.

The guard hit play and held up the screen. It was a body cam view. They watched the guard question the girl and Peter on a public bus then turn and leave.

“I don’t remember deciding to leave without the bag. It certainly wasn’t my orders… and I _always_ follow orders.”

The girl was unusually still for a teenager being threatened by a goon. Who let this guy in the building anyway?

“Maybe, you were having an off night.”

The guard’s face twisted, eyes glinting with cruel enjoyment. “Maybe...” He turned the tablet back around and started tapping the screen. “Remember our little talk about Ms. Maximoff?” Tony’s eyes widened. “It seems your accent isn’t almost identical.”

 _No way._ The guard flipped the tablet back around. The program Tony sold DoD to compare voice prints lit the screen.

“It’s a perfect match.”

_Wanda?_

The girl looked from the screen to the guard and back.

“Underoos.”

The room erupted. The guard’s head snapped back, a tiny speck growing to the size of a real man before he turned and punched another. It seemed Wanda brought a guest. Red cocooned around Tony and Peter as Ross’s goons fired, the bullets passing through Vision and into some very expensive lab equipment. Tendrils spidered across the room stealing the guns in a very Wanda move from the girl with a very unWanda face.

The closest goon got in a lucky shot while she was distracted and sent her sprawling. Sully… Scully… Smashmouth? Tiny guy shrank and flipped one of the men into another as Ross edged farther into the room. Peter, over his shock, punched one of them in the face when they tried to grab him from behind. Most of the goons were down before Tony could register what happened.

More poured into the room.

_Shit._

The eyes on Not-Wanda’s face glowed red. The tendrils snaking away from her body shot to their new guests’ ankles and snatched them into the air. The guard mini-me took out earlier snuck to his feet behind her. He snuck closer.

Tony opened his mouth to shout a warning. She elbowed the guard in the face before it could come out. Vision hovered protectively by her side disintegrating enemy weapons as they were pulled.

“Enough,” Ross yelled.

Tony heard a click and the goons hanging by their ankles fell to the floor as the red glow tinting the room flashed to nothing. Peter stumbled a step shaking his head. Even Vision stood on the ground looking down, no doubt trying to figure out why he wasn’t hovering anymore.

“I see the new design is coming along well,” Ross said, hand still on the grid’s switch. Tony turned to glare at him.

Before he could say anything Pin-prick recovered and took out a few goons trying to get to their feet. A mountain of a man swatted at him and sent him flying. He crashed into the wall and grew to a normal size as Vision and Not-Wanda fought back to back.

“Come on, Scott, walk it off,” Tony heard him mutter to himself. He tried to get up and was met with the barrel of a gun. “Or I could sit it off, sitting it off is fine… better even… I’ll just...” He collapsed back and sat with his hands up.

No way Ross wouldn’t take Vision after this. Tony watched him throw a goon across the room as Not-Wanda wrapped her legs around a man’s neck and flipped him.

_Romanov’s been busy._

Tony couldn’t watch them take Wanda again. He refused to let them take Vision. He couldn’t even imagine the kid… the kid. Where was he?

Tony turned in time to see him dodge one of Ross’s men only for another to grab him from behind. He yelped in surprise. Tony reached for the button on his bracelet.

“I said enough!” Ross ordered. Tony paused.

Not-Wanda snuck a glance as she dodged a fist aimed at her face and saw Peter struggling against his captor. Tony recognized the second she decided to give up. She kicked the man she was fighting away and put her hands up.

“Wanda?” Vis asked as he shouldered someone into the wall.

“There are too many,” she said, “and they have Peter.”

Vis stopped. They shared a look. He stepped back and put his hands up.

“And me,” Dust fleck said. “They have me, too.”

“And Scott.” Not-Wanda rolled her eyes, a ghost of a smile touching her lips. It wiped away when the guard from the Raft wrapped his hand in her hair and wrenched her arm behind her back.

Two goons kicked Vision’s knees out from under him and stood over his shoulders.

“Well… Tony, I have to thank you, again,” Ross said. Tony wanted to punch the smug smile off his face… again. “None of this would have been possible-,” he tapped the grid with his knuckle – “without you.”

Ross turned to Not-Wanda. “Ms. Maximoff, I suppose I should thank you, too.” Ross walked over and stared down at her. “Until now, I had no excuse to take the robot.”

“Android,” Tony said on reflex. The glare Ross shot him was worth it.

Not-Wanda struggled against the guard. Tony had no doubt if the grid were deactivated her glare would burn straight through Ross. The Secretary trailed a finger down her face. He stopped at the bottom and peeled the mask off.

“There you are,” Ross muttered. Tony didn’t like the cruel glint in his eye.

“Hey, Wanda,” Tony called, lifting an awkward hand. They both looked at him.

“Tony… Been a while,” she said. Her glare would probably burn through him, too… He let his hand fall. _That’s fair._

Ross spun and retraced his steps to the grid. He tapped it.

“It’s almost perfect.” He walked to the side of the room and picked up the metal ring lying forgotten on the floor. Tony snuck a glance at Wanda and watched her studiously look anywhere but at Ross. “But it’s missing a key feature from your earlier design.”

“Mr. Stark?” Peter’s voice clawed at his rumored heart.

Tony didn’t want to look. He looked. _Crap._ The kid had too much faith in him. His puppy dog eyes stared in disbelief, and something in Tony tore apart. He had a new appreciation for Banner during a Code Green.

“See,” Ross continued unaware of the shift, “I want my… prisoners to learn a lesson in my care. I want them to truly understand the _error_ in their ways. Perhaps, a demonstration to show you what I mean.”

He tossed the collar. It clattered to the floor. Ross nodded to Wanda’s guard and he knocked her to her knees. Her eyes darted around avoiding the unassuming metal sitting within arms reach.

A commotion came from the corner as Tiny Man fought against his goons and lost. Vision’s guards pressed their guns against his head to keep him from moving. Peter yelped as his captor tried to stop his struggling.

Ross walked until he was standing over Wanda. She sucked in a shaky breath. “Put it on.”

_Oh, hell no._

Tony punched the button on his wrist and the gauntlet jumped to cover his hand. He pointed it at Ross’s head. It charged ready to fire.

Wanda’s surprised eyes jumped up to his, and it cut deeper than her glare. Something conflicted ran across her face before she buried it behind a blank mask.

_Romanov’s been very busy._

Ross tsked. “Tony… unless you want to join your friends in a cell, I suggest you lower the glove.”

“It’s a gauntlet,” he corrected.

“Tony.” Wanda’s soft voice pulled his attention. His eyes darted down to meet hers before flicking back up. “Tony… it’s ok.”

Jury was back… he had a heart. He knew because he could feel it jumping into his throat.

“Tony,” she said again half pleading, half ordering, “it’s ok. Put it down.”

His eyes darted back to hers. “I can’t.”

“You can.” Her stare hardened, determined. She fiddled with something around her wrist, a bracelet… a familiar bracelet.

…

He dropped his hand. “Fine… but only because prison food doesn’t agree with me.” He shrugged. “I’m just assuming. I have a very particular diet, anything lower than three Michelin stars, and I turn to stone.” He turned to the closest goon and leaned in. “It’s very inconvenient.”

“You know, Mr. Secretary,” Wanda said, “you were right about one thing.” She reached a shaky hand toward the collar, the bracelet hugging her wrist. Ross watched eyes glinting in anticipation. “I certainly learned my lesson.”

She raised the widow’s bite and sent a jolt of electricity at his face. The Secretary of State seized then collapsed.

Tony raised his gauntlet and blasted the grid. It fizzled and died. Red sprang through the room. Peter knocked his guard back and flipped behind him to crack his head against the wall. Vision phased as his captors open fired. Wanda snatched their guns away before slamming them into the ceiling. Tendrils shot away from her blasting the rest of Ross’s men.

Silence filled the room. Tony looked around the wreckage.

“Hey, Maximoff,” he looked over at her. Her shoulders tensed. “If you keep wrecking my compound, I’m going to quit inviting you over.”

She breathed out a laugh and used a desk to stand. She took a couple steps and stared down at Ross.

“What are we going to do about him?” She asked. “We can’t exactly all go into hiding… Peter has school.” She shot him a teasing smile before worry wiped it away.

Tony joined her and stared down at the Secretary. He nudged him with a foot. “Can’t you just...” he twirled a hand in the air… “do your thing?”

Her shoulders tensed again. He looked at her brow furrowing.

“She’s worried-”

“Vis,” she scolded. They stared at each other.

Vision pressed his lips together and met Tony’s eye. “She doesn’t want to scare you,” he said sending a significant look toward the collar.

Tony’s jaw clenched. He pointed the gauntlet and fired. The collar disintegrated. Wanda jumped. He tried to catch her eye, but she refused to look at him.

“Wanda…” her eyes flicked to his. “I trust you.” She blinked. He motioned to everyone still standing in the room. “We trust you. I know you have my back.”

She swallowed, then nodded. Wanda turned and got to work.


	10. Chapter 10

**Tony**

Tony waved as Ross drove away with designs for the grid prototype.

Wanda made it the purpose of his visit. Apparently, he brought the extra muscle to intimidate Tony into going faster. Tony raised his brow at that, but she shrugged and said it was believable to him and that was what mattered. She also made sure the guard – Mr. Lester? – would realize in a few days that there was no way Peter could be Spiderman and have his superiors move on to a different project. All in all, it felt like a win.

Tony kept the smile plastered to his face as the car disappeared outside the gate. “Goodbye, you smarmy son of a bitch.”

He turned back to the compound and made his way to the hangar.

“… keep in touch,” he heard Vision say as he walked in.

“I don’t want to put you in danger,” Wanda said, worrying her bottom lip.

“Ugh, reach out. No one’s monitoring anything,” Tony said rolling his eyes. “He mopes… and sneaks out to soup kitchens.”

“What?” Wanda turned to Vision eyes sparkling. Vision sputtered.

“I hate to break this up and be the responsible one… wait why am I the responsible one? This is a terrible idea.”

“What is it, Scott?” Wanda asked through a smile.

“The others are worried,” he muttered.

Wanda’s eyes fell. She shot a longing look at Vision, and Tony wished he could shove her back in her room. It seemed they both moped.

She squeezed his hand and turned to Tony. “You’ll look out for Peter?”

Tony crossed a finger over his chest. “Cross my heart-” because he totally had one – “He’s on his way home with Happy right now.”

She nodded. “Scott?”

“What?” He turned back from studying the hangar. “Oh right, see ya Stark, Vision.” He waved then shrank jumping under Wanda’s lapel.

Wanda turned to Vision. “Fly me out?” Vision hovered to her side. Tony started fiddling with the tools on the closest workbench. Wanda looked back. “Tony?”

“Yeah,” he said looking up from the screwdriver he was debating using as a drumstick.

“Thank you… for not-”

“Sure,” he said, cutting her off. “Of course.” He looked back down at the screwdriver, and she and Vision turned to go.

“Wanda...” She looked back. He let out a sigh. “I really am sorry.” Tony looked up.

She was wearing a sad smile, small and wistful. “I know,” she said, voice soft and forgiving. She looked down before meeting his eye. “Steve is too, you know.”

Tony sucked in a breath… and they were gone.

**Wanda**

_ Are you sure you can get away?  _ Wanda asked.

_ Tony seems to be going out of his way to be of assistance. _ Vision replied.

She smothered a laugh and looked out the window. If she tilted her head just right, she could see the Eiffel Tower. Natasha had the best safe houses.

_ Have you been cooking Paprikash, again?  _ She accused.

…

…

…

_ The soup kitchen seems to appreciate my efforts. _

That time she couldn’t stop the laugh.

_ Ok, I can be ready in… half an hour? _

_ I will be there. _

Wanda rolled onto her back a smile plastered across her face. She couldn’t wait.

~*~*~

“Where are you off to?” Natasha asked passing her in the hall.

Wanda shot her a smile. “To win you some money.”

“What-” a sly smile slid across Natasha’s face. “Finally.” Her smile fell behind a stern mask. “Keep in touch…” Wanda nodded. “… and tell Vision hello for me.”

“I will.”

“You will what?” Clint asked. Wanda snuck a glance at the clock.

“Tell Vision hello for me,” Natasha sang, the smile returning. Clint looked between them.

“No.”

“What?” Wanda laughed.

“You’re grounded.”

Wanda shook her head, a smile quirking her lips.

“Why’s she grounded?” Sam asked rounding the corner.

“She’s going on a date with Vision.”

“What?” Sam turned betrayed eyes on her. “You couldn’t wait a week?”

Wanda bit her lip to hold back another laugh.

“Scott,” he called continuing down the hall, “we lost.”

“No, you didn’t,” Clint said to his retreating back before looking at her, “because you’re grounded.”

“You can’t ground me.”

“You can’t ground her,” Natasha backed her up.

“My roof, my rules.” Clint crossed his arms.

“It’s my roof,” Natasha said. They stared at each other.

“Cap, you’ll back me up, right?” Clint called.

Steve froze as he rounded the corner a chip halfway to his mouth. His eyes darted between the three of them. “Huh?”

“Wanda’s going on a date with Vision,” Natasha supplied.

“Oh… have fun?”

“No,” Clint said, “because she’s grounded.”

Realization crossed Steve’s face. A cheeky smile pulled at his lips. “Until tomorrow, right?”

“Right.” Clint gave a confident nod.

“Don’t look at me,” Steve said, continuing down the hall. “I already lost.”

“Have fun, Wanda,” he said as he passed. She shot him a grateful smile.

Clint’s mouth opened and closed a few times before he turned and followed Steve.

“Uh oh,” Natasha’s face fell, “I know that look.” She turned to follow him. “Have fun,” she called over her shoulder, “and stay in contact.”

Wanda shook her head and slipped out the door. Light streamed into the courtyard. Still on the run, the Avengers still broken, she wondered why the smile on her face refused to quit. Then she felt the team at her back and Viz’s presence flying closer. Things that were broken could be fixed, and she knew what waited on the other side.

_ Family. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it, folks! Last chapter. Thank you so much for all the support and feedback. This fic was some of the most fun I've had writing, and I'm happy to see there are others out there who enjoyed it. You're all wonderful. Don't change a thing!


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